


After the Night, Day Must Follow

by wookiekisses



Series: Day Must Follow [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: A Night to Remember spoilers, All sexual content is noted in the author's notes at the beginning of the chapter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Evie teaches him how to deal with them, Bisexual Male Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I don't want to ruin things for you, Internalized Homophobia, It all gets better though, Jacob struggles with his emotions, Jacob's POV, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Period typical religious beliefs in chapter one, Period-Typical Homophobia, Profanity, Sibling Bonding, Tense Twin Talks, The one where Jacob shows he has feelings, if you haven't finished the game please don't read this, post-Sequence 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5668471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wookiekisses/pseuds/wookiekisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of what Evie has dubbed "A Night to Remember", Jacob decides that he has to come clean about his actions in order to truly solidify the tentative reparations that he and Evie have made on their relationship. Jealousy, confusion, confessions, and blunders run amok, and the Frye twins still have a lot of work to do before they can say London is truly safe. The only question is, will they be able to save their city and themselves at the same time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags before reading. This story will contain MAJOR spoilers for the entirety of Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, so unless you have finished the game or don't mind spoilers, please wait to read this. Also, this story will contain some measure of both period-typical and resulting internalized homophobia. As someone who has experienced internalized homophobia and external homophobia alike, I caution anyone who may be struggling with those issues not to read this story. This is very much a story of hope and, ultimately, love, but I know that the hardships that must be experienced before reaching that point can be triggering.

By the time Jacob, Henry, and Evie scrambled from the vault beneath Buckingham Palace, the sun was already rising above London. The ball-goers had been dispersed by Scotland Yard and the Royal Guard no doubt, and the grounds of the Palace were eerily calm for the site of what was essentially a war for London. Then again, Jacob thought, quite a few people and places in his life had been deceptively calm at the surface before opening up to reveal something monstrous beneath. He was glad to have Evie by his side again though; he hadn't been lying when he said he had missed her. It had actually been a moment of rare vulnerability for him. He wasn't one to talk about his feelings, but he knew that if he hadn't admitted it he might have lost Evie forever and that was simply a loss he could not tolerate. 

His head was a bit of a wreck by the time they got back to where the chaos had begun, where Starrick had trapped Evie in a dance with death before they all delved into the Earth to fight for an object Jacob would never truly understand, and so he was greatly relieved to see Sergeant Abberline approach with a carriage. Every bruise and cut on his body throbbed at once, and his knees went a bit wobbly, but Jacob put on his usual swagger and spread his arms wide. 

"A carriage! Nicely done Freddy," he praised, but his momentary elation vanished the second Freddy opened the door of the carriage. 

Bloody hell. It was the Queen, the fucking  _Queen,_ and here he was soaked in pond water, blood, sweat, and some other substances that he didn't really want to even think about, let alone name. Her voice was a bit surprising, not exactly as...imposing as he would've imagined, but still. He had done some very, very illegal things in the past few months and the Queen of England was getting out of her carriage, assisted by a member of Scotland Yard no less, to approach him. Did he mention he was soaked and stinking?

"Your Majesty." 

"Miss Frye." 

The statement caught Jacob off guard. When in the hell had that happened? 

"You've met before?" he asked, all but forgetting his already poor sense of decorum to gape at his sister. Evie smiled softly. 

"Didn't I mention?" she replied. 

"Mister Abberline informs me that you three are responsible for saving my life. Is this true?" the Queen questioned. Jacob's heart skipped a beat. Holy hell, they might actually not get arrested. 

"It is, Your Majesty," Henry answered, because apparently Jacob was too high on astonishment and excitement to get a single word out of his mouth. When he was commanded to step forward, aided only by a gentle introduction from his sister, Jacob did so without thinking, a daft smile still written across his face. He had a feeling what was about to happen, what with the man holding a sword and all, but he didn't actually believe it until they were told to kneel. Jacob complied gladly, moving in sync with Evie, and Henry sank down a bit more shakily than the two of them but followed none the less. The knighting was a silent, almost solemn affair, but Jacob could feel Freddy's eyes on all of them and when the pressure of the sword grazed his collar he almost twitched away; he wasn't exactly fond of having blades near his neck, even if they were most likely dulled and held by the Queen. He didn't think that assassinations were the Queen's style, especially if she were about to assassinate the Assassins that had prevented her assassination. Christ he needed sleep. Or to stop thinking about the word 'assassin'. That didn't stop him from exchanging shit-eating grins with Evie and Henry though. 

"Arise. I invest you all in the Order of the Sacred Garter."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." There was Evie, as eloquent as ever. 

"If you are as adept as Mr. Abberline implies, I may call on you."

"Sergeant Abberline tends to exaggerate, Your Majesty," Jacob said, finally finding his voice. Despite addressing the Queen, he looked at Freddy, who had the decency to look slightly abashed. Jacob could see he was pleased though; he was pretty sure it was the first time he had ever called Freddy 'Sergeant Abberline'. The other man had certainly earned Jacob's respect, and if the soft smile barely visible under Freddy's moustache was any indication, Jacob had just earned a few points in Freddy's favour as well. 

"We shall meet again," the Queen said, completely ignoring Jacob's remark. He tried not to be bothered by it. "And Miss Frye."

"Ma'am?"

"Should you want it, I saved you some cake," the Queen said. Jacob was dumbfounded. Did Evie have inside jokes with the bloody Queen? He had some serious questions for his sister when all of this was over. As the Queen gracefully ascended back into her carriage, however, Jacob returned his attention to Freddy, who leapt back up into the driver's seat with surprising fluidity. And here Jacob had been thinking that his feigned clumsiness was legitimate. Something fond bubbled up in Jacob's chest, something that he realised he felt far too often, but he ignored the alarm bells in his head, opting to saunter on up to Freddy like an arse. When he got to the side of the carriage though, he was at a loss for what to do. That was also starting to become a feeling he was experiencing way too often. He let a warm smile cross his face and waved a bit awkwardly to Freddy, who returned the gesture with a smile of his own. The carriage rolled away, leaving Jacob smiling wistfully. 

He was distracted from further introspection, thank the Lord, by his sister, who clapped him on the back and told him that their Father would be proud. It was the first time Evie had ever said something like that to him, as it was often the opposite, and the gentle praise was a welcome balm to soothe away the pain of some of her past vitriol. Even if some of it was deserved. Which it might've been, all things considered. Huh. Humility was weird, but Jacob wasn't too sure that he didn't like it. 

"Dame Evie Frye," was all he could think to respond with. 

"Sir Jacob Frye," she retorted. 

"Race you to the train," he challenged.

"You're on." 

They took off towards the tracks, leaving a bewildered Henry in the dust. Jacob let out a boisterous laugh. Henry would eventually have to adapt to their strange, inexplicable bond, but until then he was really going to enjoy torturing Evie's apparent suitor. 

 

 

It wasn't until the sun was sinking back into the Earth and the lanterns began to flicker that Jacob allowed himself a moment to think of anything other than his inhuman joy at escaping, alive, and somewhat saving London. As the train rolled through the sleepy boroughs, he rested his head against the cool window near his bed and watched the city as it passed him by. Occasionally, he saw a cluster of red jackets and he grimaced at the thought of all the work still to be done. Much to his dismay, the Rooks had only succeeded in securing three of London's seven boroughs, and until they completed the task London could be snatched up once more by the Templars. There were still Templars hiding in Blighter secured boroughs, lurking in the shadows until they got the chance to strike. And then there were the factories. Countless children still needing to be rescued from horrible working conditions, at risk for injury or even death until Jacob and Evie saved them from their prisons. And, of course, there was the issue of those who definitely should be in prison. Freddy was counting on them to bring in these criminals so that they could be properly persecuted, locked away so that they couldn't harm the city that Jacob loved so much. 

Freddy.

Jacob let out a sigh, fogging up the window until London was a shadow behind it, and let out a self-depreciating laugh at the awkwardness of their last parting. He never knew how to handle Freddy. The man was intelligent, that much was obvious, but he was goofy and strange and a police officer on top of it all. He somehow managed to both pull together incredible disguises and then bungle them up by failing to change or shave off his ridiculous amount of facial hair. Jacob wondered briefly what the man looked like without the bushy sideburns and large moustache, but immediately forced the thought away. He knew that a more...groomed Freddy would be charming, even more so than he already was, and that was a dangerous train of thought. Heh. Train of thought. Train. Jacob whacked his forehead against the window and ran a hand through his hair, now thankfully clean.  

"What's that about then?" Evie asked, emerging from the shadows. Jacob hadn't even heard the click of her stupid heeled boots when she had approached. She really was becoming a master of stealth. It was a terrifying prospect, knowing that she could pop up on him unexpectedly now, but it was also reassuring. At least she would be safe that way. 

"Ah, it's nothing," Jacob murmured, returning his focus to the city outside. Evie snorted and sank into the armchair across from him. 

"Don't lie to me Jacob. I can always tell when something is bothering you."

Jacob turned to glare at her and froze when he saw the concern written across her face. Suddenly everything that had happened in the past few weeks came crashing down on him and he felt unbelievably heavy. Old, even. He was only twenty one for God's sake! But he knew it was true; both of them had been aged by their experiences, and Jacob's mental aging had not been of the gentle sort. He was weary, doubtful despite their accomplishments, and, truth be told, heart broken. 

"How's Henry?" he asked, and he was surprised by the bitterness in his own voice. Evie's brows furrowed at that, the motion squishing some of her freckles together and crinkling the bridge of her nose. There wasn't a single expression that Jacob hadn't known by heart on that beloved face until today, when Evie ran to Henry's side and something soft and warm and so dangerously unfamiliar crossed over her expression. The kiss had been...unexpected. He knew that Evie wasn't conventional, not by a long shot, but to kiss a man in front of her brother? It wasn't so much scandalous as it was childishly disgusting. It was Evie. And Henry. And gross. 

"He's doing well. His wounds aren't overly severe, a few bumps and bruises really. He's resting now, but we'll need to keep an eye on his head injury. He's gotten quite a few of those lately," Evie replied evenly, searching Jacob's face for the source of his sudden change in tone. His brows twitched upward. 

"Must've if he's taken a liking to you," he teased. It didn't sound all that playful though, and Evie sucked in a sharp breath.

"Jacob, must you really antagonize me when we've only just made up?" she sighed. Jacob scratched at the back of his neck and once more looked away. 

"Sorry," he mumbled. Evie shifted, placing her hand on his knee. He could feel the warmth through the fabric of his trousers since she had taken her gloves off. She must be comfortable, he realised, if she was going without her gloves and therefore her gauntlet on the train. 

"Please tell me what's happened to you Jacob. You have changed so much since we got here, and I know it isn't just because of our fight," she murmured. The heaviness he had been trying to stave off only increased, and something twisted its way around Jacob's heart and squeezed, trying to wring it dry. And suddenly he couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth. 

"I...I'm so  _jealous_ of you Evie. You were always Father's favourite, even if you won't admit it, and you're certainly more clever than I am. You're fast and you're sneaky, hell, I can barely walk down the street sober without tripping over myself and drawing the attention of every Blighter in a three block radius-"

"That is not true. You're just as coordinated as I am-"

"Not really. Not even when it comes to fighting. You're all grace and skill and I'm just," he flapped his hands uselessly, "brutish. And then there's the issue of me trusting people. You never trust the wrong people, not even a bit, but me? Hell Evie, I fall right into the fucking hands of every deranged maniac in this city. I mean, first there was Miss Attaway. God, you wouldn't believe her Evie. She was beautiful, charming, clever, ambitious, and she treated me like I wasn't just some dumb brute playing gang boss. She acted like she saw my potential, like I was valuable to her, and apparently I was because she certainly got what she wanted from me, but I was an idiot and went and fell in love with her."

Evie stared at him in shock, and uninhibited by her words (or lack thereof), he continued his rant. 

"And then, oh,  _then_ I find out not only is she working for Starrick, she's his cousin. His cousin! And apparently they were together at some point, because he was definitely sore about something other than her running his transportation business out of business. And me? I was just a pawn in her game."

"Jacob." It sounds so broken that Jacob has to hold a hand up. He can't hear Evie's thoughts right now. Now that he's started, he can't stop, much like everything else he does. He's never been like this, not even when he was drunk, but he feels so raw that he needs to just throw himself into the flames and lay there until he's burnt to a crisp. Flames. His stomach flips and he feels like being sick. 

"God, and then...then I finally get over it and," his breath is starting to come in heavy, sharp, almost painful pants, "I...I-I went to that stupid dinner with Maxwell Roth." 

"I told you not to go!" Evie cried, and Jacob pulled his knees up to his chest, hiding his face in the space between his thighs and his arms as he folded in on himself. 

"I know," he moaned, shaking his head. The motion was somehow more heartbreaking now that Evie could only see the fringe of hair at the back of his neck, and she refrained from touching him since she was afraid it would set him off the edge. "But I went," he continued, and fuck, now he was crying. Great. He hadn't cried since he was a child, and even then the last time he had cried was when Evie had slashed his face open with a knife when one of their play fights got a little too real. He still had the scar on his cheek too, and he was absently reminded of it when a tear trickled across it before it got caught up in his stubble. 

"What happened?" Evie asked. Her voice was so gentle that it wrenched a sob from Jacob. He didn't deserve a sister like her. He was...tainted. Wrong. What had happened was an abomination, something unnatural. 

"I c-can't tell you," Jacob managed to choke out between nearly hysterical gasps for air. He felt so  _weak_. He supposed it was a punishment for all of his sins and his lack of remorse. A black stain on his soul that he'd never be able to scrub off no matter how hard he tried to fight for the innocents around him. 

"Jacob, you can tell me anything," Evie whispered, and suddenly she was kneeling in front of him, her weight sinking his mattress down a bit as she tried to pry his arms away from his head. 

"No!" he yelled, holding onto himself more tightly. "Please Evie, y-you'd h-hate me." 

She went still, but she didn't pull away from him. 

"I could never hate you Jacob," she murmured. 

"You could if you knew." 

Evie's hand settled in his hair, or what little of it she could reach, and she scraped her fingers through it gently like she used to do when they were younger and Jacob had felt so very alone thanks to their Father's disapproval. 

"Jacob Edward Frye, I have never and will never hate you." God he hated it when she pulled the middle name card, and this time it only made him shake more violently. "We have been together since before we were even born, and despite the fact that we fight, we will always,  _always_ be together."

"You wanted to walk away not even twenty four hours ago!" Jacob suddenly bellowed, launching himself out of the bed to begin pacing madly up and down his car. He was so glad that the doors on either end were shut. To have Evie see him like this was mortifying. He'd sooner throw himself on the tracks than allow anyone else to witness his hysteria. 

"Do you really think that I could have walked away from you, from all that we've been through together, that easily?" Evie asked. Her voice was like a razor, angry and calculating, and Jacob deflated. 

"No," he admitted, shaking his head. "No more easily than I could have from you." 

"Exactly. So stop with all of this nonsense and just tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is almost broke us, and it's tearing you apart. That much is obvious." 

"It was a repeat of the last time," he whispered, shuddering. He waited for the ball to drop, for Evie to understand the implications of what he had just said. 

"What, he used you?" she asked. His incredible Evie, so unwilling to see how monstrous her brother was. She was an angel. An angel of death, perhaps, but an angel nonetheless. Jacob could practically feel the leathery wings on his back. He wondered if he would have actually burned in the fire at the Alhambra. Could demons perish in fire?

"No," he said. His voice had gone cold, and all of a sudden the tears stopped. He almost sank into himself, tuning out the world around him. Maybe if he just confessed he could be redeemed. "I fell in love with him. I'm addicted to danger Evie. I crave it, just like Maxwell craved freedom. We...twisted each other. I didn't even realize I was doing his dirty work, I was so caught up in his spell. We'd cause chaos, maybe a little bit of destruction, throw a wrench in Starrick's system, and then...and then we'd just go back to the Alhambra and talk. God that man could talk. He was born for the stage Evie, the man was enthralling. I was in so deep with him, but then he...he told me we were going to destroy one of Starrick's factories and I just took his word for it. Set up the dynamite and everything, but then there were  _children_ in there. I couldn't let him just kill them, and he was so angry with me because I went against his plans and saved them. He thought they were a part of Starrick's system instead of seeing them as victims of it. He wanted them to die. How could I have ever loved someone like that?"

"Jacob-"

"No. I know. Birds of a feather flock together Evie. Evil loves only itself. The worst part was, I still loved him after that. I knew he was mad, mad as a hatter, but that only made me want to save him more. I went to that stupid death trap play because I thought I could redeem him. But it was nothing like I'd ever seen before. He killed people Evie. Volunteers that had no idea that it wasn't magic. He was taunting me, using their deaths to draw me out. He knew I wouldn't stand by and watch it happen, but the whole time he kept calling me darling, and his d-dear boy and I...God, I wanted it to be true!" Jacob screamed, lashing out and smacking a glass that had been sitting on the dresser beside him across the car. It shattered against the wall, tinkling as it hit the ground. An apt description, Jacob thought, watching the light of the lantern flicker off of the shards. 

"I killed him...but even when he was dying I wanted him to not be another lie. Fuck, I cried Evie. I begged him for answers, a-and he just..."

Jacob's lips pressed together as he remembered Maxwell's crushing against his own. It had been their first, last, and only kiss. "He kissed me. And then he died. No answers other than 'why not'. It destroyed me."

Evie slowly approached him, moving like someone who would approach an injured animal would. "But he was-"

"A man?" Jacob snapped, shrinking away from her. He couldn't bring himself to look at her face. 

"No, Jacob. I mean, yes, he was a man, but he was  _sick_. You couldn't have known that until it showed, and by then it was too late. Like...like typhoid," she murmured. Her hand settled on his shoulder and when Jacob looked up he didn't see disgust or hatred in Evie's eyes. He saw tears, yes, but those tears were for him. For his sadness. 

"You...you aren't angry?" he whispered. He felt like a child. 

"Oh, I'm angry, but not for the reasons you think. I'm angry that you were hurt so many times since we've gotten here. I'm angry that you didn't tell me until now. I'm angry that you let people like Attaway and Roth break you like this...but I'm not angry that Roth was a man, no. Why would you even think for one moment that that would be a reason for me to be angry?" she asked. Jacob let out a shaky laugh.

"It's an abomination against God," he responded. Evie snorted. 

"Jacob, please. I'm not saying God isn't real, but...are you even listening to yourself right now? You are standing here  _loathing_ yourself because you think that you are an abomination. The only people that say you are an abomination are the Church and the people that blindly follow the teachings of the Church. Who runs the Church Jacob?" she asked. Jacob's brows furrowed, but the tension was starting to ease in his chest. 

"Depends on which Church we're talking here," he replied, a hint of his former sarcasm returning to his voice.

"Doesn't matter which one. Who runs them all?" Evie pressed. Jacob's face scrunched up in frustration. What the hell was she getting at? For Christ's sake, not everything had to be a riddle. 

Wait. 

Christ. The Cross. Red. Blood. The  _fucking_ cross. 

"The Templars," he breathed. "The Templars control the Church." 

"Exactly. And the Templars warp everything their hands touch until they destroy everything good about it. If you believe in God, if you believe in Jesus and the Bible and everything else, then you know that the first thing Jesus ever taught was to love. This self hatred? This fear? That's not God. That's the Templars playing at God, twisting the words of a book that almost nobody really understands to suit their whims. You know what they do just as well as I. So stop this. You are not an abomination, you are not wrong. You fight for the people Jacob, you save children, you tackle thieves, you helped to collapse a corrupt system that was oppression millions. How could you think for one second that you're not good? Yes, our methods might be...extreme, and killing people is not something to be smiled upon or taken lightly, but hell Jacob. What other way is there?"

Jacob stood there, jaw hanging open stupidly, until he had to reach out and pull Evie into a bone crushing hug. 

"Thank you Evie," he whispered into her hair as she grunted in discomfort. 

"I love you Jacob," she replied. "Don't forget that you big lump."

And Jacob laughed, a real, genuine laugh, for the first time since Pearl had crushed him the first time. 

\----------

AN: (I don't want this on the whole piece, sorry this is a bit unorthodox for me) So the religious thing was some pretty treacherous terrain there, but seeing as religion was really the source of homophobia in the Victorian era (and most other eras...*glares at history*) I needed to come up with a reason that Evie could dismiss the Church's stance on homosexuality without discrediting Jacob's beliefs in God. So. Templars. This isn't a personal statement on my beliefs, nor is it a criticism of anyone else's beliefs. Assassin's Creed tends to get a bit prickly with religious institutions anyway so I'm hoping I don't offend while simultaneously thinking that anyone who plays these games and enjoys them enough to read fanfiction about them won't be upset by Evie's little church rant there. 

Anywho. This is the first of many chapters, and while it was certainly the longest and most likely heaviest chapter, I didn't want to break it into separate parts. The beginning might've been rehashing some stuff you already knew, but I definitely wanted to delve into Jacob's way of thinking a bit before we all free ran aboard the Angst Express. Comments are always appreciated, I welcome constructive criticism as well as compliments <3

 


	2. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In light of all that has happened, Jacob realises that he might have to take a much more subtle approach to things. Conversations with Sergeant Abberline reveal just how true this realisation is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is far lighter than the first, and I hope that you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who has left comments, kudos, and bookmarks already. They are always welcome, as is constructive criticism :)

There was something so comforting about the fog, in the way it fell over London, wrapping itself around her buildings like a lover and coating the streets in a thick mist that made all but what was right in front of you look like nothing more than a shadowy blur. Perhaps it was the layer of secrecy that the fog provided, or maybe it was the way that the world seemed to be muffled when the fog came; either way, Jacob loved the fog. It soothed his frayed nerves in a way that even the strongest drink couldn’t do, and so it was in the fog that Jacob sat, contemplating what his next move should be. There was so much to be done now that Starrick was dead, but it would require far more forethought than anything Jacob had ham-handedly done before. London would hang in a state of delicate balance until Jacob could be certain that she would tip into the careful hands of the Assassins when he made his move.

The first move would be to eliminate Blighter presence in the city, that much had already been decided. Evie had come up with a plan on how they could sweep across London to secure the rest of the boroughs, but it would take time, money, and assistance. They would need Abberline’s continued support though, and to get that they would have to continue to bring in his fugitives. Who were hiding out in Blighter controlled boroughs. It was all very cyclical. Not for the first time since Evie had revealed the truly chaotic nature of his actions did Jacob find himself wondering where to even begin. A few tiles clanked together behind him as he pondered the dilemma, and Jacob spun around while simultaneously drawing his kukri.

“Oh Christ, Freddy, give me some warning next time,” he breathed, immediately sheathing the weapon when he saw the Sergeant standing behind him.

“I could say the same to you Mister Frye. Luckily for you, I was the one around when someone noticed a strange man hanging out on our roof,” Abberline replied, walking over so that he was next to Jacob. Jacob snorted and shook his head.

“Of course someone saw me, it’s only the foggiest day we’ve had in weeks,” he grumbled, leaning back so that he was laying on the roof in order to see the sergeant more clearly. “So, come to chase me away?”

“Not particularly, although I am curious as to why you decided that the roof of Scotland Yard was a good place to brood,” Abberline smiled, raising his eyebrows at Jacob as he sprawled out.

“I wasn’t brooding, I was planning. There is a difference,” Jacob replied. “And I had to come find you once I decided what my next course of action would be, so I thought that I’d just come to the most convenient location so that’d I’d already be here when I made up my mind.”

Abberline hummed and, much to Jacob’s surprise, sat down beside him.

“And what is your great dilemma this time, Mister Frye?” he asked. Jacob let out a laugh.

“The Blighters,” Jacob said, fiddling with the brim of his top hat before setting it to rest at his hip. “They still control most of the city, and if they’re still in control then there is still work to be done. Evie’s suggested we do a sweep down to Lambeth and then across the Thames since we’ve already gotten Whitechapel, the City of London, and Southwark secured, but it’s just…a lot.”

“From what your sister has told me, freeing the boroughs is a bit more complex than even I initially understood,” the sergeant said. Jacob’s brows furrowed.

“You’ve been talking to Evie?” he asked.

“She was the one who came to me after the whole banking fiasco,” Abberline replied coolly. Jacob’s cheeks flushed; that had probably been his greatest blunder yet. He had almost destroyed the entire British economy instead of dislodging a cog in the machine that was London. It wasn’t one of his prouder moments, and he really wished he had thought it through better.

“Right,” Jacob finally muttered, sitting up and plopping his hat into his lap. “I need to avoid doing something like that again, and now that Starrick is dead London is teetering on the edge, even if most people don’t see it.”

“Fortunately for you, I am not most people. You and your sister have certainly ensured that,” Abberline said. Jacob had to chuckle at that and shook his head. There was that stupid bubble of fond warmth again. This was becoming a problem.

“No, you definitely aren’t most people. I don’t think you were even before you met Evie and I. Your…interesting methods of detective work are indicative enough,” Jacob replied. Abberline coughed in surprise and Jacob thought for a moment that his cheeks had turned a bit pink. Maybe that was just his mind playing tricks though. “But we need-no, I need-your help. The criminals you’ve asked us to collect are still in those Blighter controlled areas. Will you be able to keep the police from poking their noses into Rook business at the very least until we secure the boroughs?”

Abberline stroked his moustache and shot Jacob an unreadable look. “I have been successful thus far, haven’t I?”

“Yes.”

“So it shouldn’t be a problem as long as you continue to do good for this city. And make more of an effort not to kill my co-workers. I am _not_ pleased about that,” he said. Jacob’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I haven’t killed any police,” he said, his body going quite still. Abberline stared at him in bewilderment.

“But there have been police officers showing up dead all around the areas of London where you have been capturing criminals, and they haven’t been killed by amateurs Jacob.”

A chill ran down Jacob’s spine. “I can assure you that none of us have killed your men Freddy.”

“Us?” the sergeant asked. Jacob cursed inwardly.

“The Rooks,” he lied. Abberline snorted.

“You are a terrible liar Mister Frye.”

“That’s Sir Frye to you,” Jacob shot back, immediately reaching for humour in his confusion. This was a very tricky situation, but…Abberline had already done so much for them. He had certainly proven his loyalty, going so far as to sneak weapons into Buckingham Palace to assist them. He could have lost his job, hell, he could have lost his life for such an action, but he had done it anyway.

“I don’t know if any of the Rooks have killed any police officers, if I am being honest. But I can promise you that I will inform them that such an action is not only unacceptable, but will end in them being dropped off on the steps of Scotland Yard,” Jacob started, running a hand through his hair.

“You would turn a member of your own gang over to the police?” Abberline asked incredulously.

“I have no quarrel with the police, not really anyway. They’re just another group of people I need to avoid when it comes down to it. Normally they do their job and protect the people of London, which is what I want to do anyway. So yes, if one of the Rooks is running around killing cops, I’ll find out who and deliver them to you,” Jacob replied almost harshly. He idly stroked the Assassin’s insignia stitched into the lapel of his coat. _Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent._ Even if he hadn’t taken the Creed to heart until recently, he had always held that tenant to be the most important.

“I’ve seen that mark before,” the sergeant murmured, gesturing to the insignia. Jacob’s hand immediately dropped away from it. “You and your sister both have it on quite a few articles of your clothing.”

“It’s a family thing,” Jacob said. It wasn’t a lie, not really. A Brotherhood counted as a family, right? Especially when those Brothers raised their children into the tradition, as they themselves were most likely raised. Save for the occasional first generation recruits of course.

“I see.” Jacob could tell by Abberline’s tone that he didn’t exactly believe him.

They sat in silence for a long while, long enough for Jacob to feel the roof’s shingles cutting into his thighs and butt, and for the mist of the fog to seep into his coat and chill him to the bone.

“Do you think it’s really possible to save London?” he finally asked. Abberline looked at him then, and there was something odd written on his face. Jacob felt his cheeks heat.

“If your actions a few nights ago are any indication, I’d say that you are already halfway there,” the sergeant murmured. Jacob felt his lips twitch up into a smile and he scratched the back of his neck as he looked away.

“We couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” Jacob said. When he risked another glance over at Abberline, the other man was blushing so brightly that Jacob knew there was no way it was a trick of his mind.

“I was glad to be of help,” Abberline said. His voice was a bit weaker than usual, almost as if he couldn’t believe that Jacob had complimented him. Jacob found himself wishing he could cross the distance between them and kiss the sergeant until the blush on his face was permanent, but the thought had Jacob rising to his feet almost as soon as it crossed his mind. Even if Evie’s talk had helped him start coming to terms with that side of himself, he certainly wasn’t going to try and kiss a cop. At best Abberline would stumble away and avoid him. At the worst, Jacob could be arrested for gross indecency…or worse. It hadn’t been all that long ago that men convicted of such ‘crimes’ were sentenced to death, and life in transportation didn’t sound all that appealing either. Abberline, however, looked a bit confused by Jacob’s sudden burst of movement and only picked up Jacob’s hat.

“I should be going. I need to speak with Evie about the problem you brought up,” Jacob said, chewing on the inside of his lip as soon as he was finished speaking.

“Of course,” Abberline said, rising to his feet. “If it would be of any help, I will let you know the next time something like this occurs as well.”

“That would be quite helpful, thanks,” Jacob smiled. Freddy nodded and held out Jacob’s hat.

“Not a problem Mister Frye. Not a problem at all.”

Jacob placed his hat on his head and tipped the brim towards Sergeant Abberline.

“I’ll see you around Freddy,” he smirked, aiming his rope launcher at the nearest building visible through the fog.

He didn’t turn around as he zipped away, leaving a thoroughly confused Sergeant Abberline in his wake.

 

Fortunately enough, Jacob didn’t run into Sergeant Abberline for several weeks after their discussion. He had smashed several heads together when he told the Rooks about the new gang rule being put into place and met resistance, and had eventually been forced to reach a compromise with the gang; they would not deliberately antagonize, attack, or otherwise provoke the police, but if the police attacked them they were allowed to defend themselves. That also meant that Jacob had to teach the Rooks that were higher up on the food chain ways to defend themselves from attacks that didn’t involve knives, guns, broken bottles, or snapping necks.

“Blighters are fair game, but with bobbies use your brain.” The little rhyme had been an Evie invention, but it had seemed to stick quite well amongst the Rooks. So far he had heard of a few broken arms and concussed police men, but no deaths. It took a certain weight off of his shoulders, allowing him to slowly creep his way into Lambeth. They hadn’t gotten much done in the borough yet, but his first priority was liberating the children in Strain and Boil.

The mission itself had been easy, child’s play really. Jacob snorted as he pivoted on the railing overlooking the bottom floor of the factory. Child’s play. He needed to stop thinking about things like that. It appeared that the Blighters and Templars in the factory had been cleared out, so now he simply had to herd the (most likely) terrified children downstairs and into the hands of his Rooks so that they could be brought home, or, if home wasn’t an option, to Clara. Most of the kids scurried when he told them who had sent him, flying willingly into the arms of the Rooks to be reunited with their braided saviour of the streets, but one little girl refused to go with the Rooks.

“They look jus’ like the other ones, ‘cept they’re wearin’ green. I won’t go with ‘em,” she said, stomping her foot on the dusty floor to prove her point. Jacob chuckled and crouched down so that he was eye to eye with her.

“They won’t hurt you _or_ take you to another factory, I promise. Clara O’Dea sent me; you do know Clara, don’t you?” he asked. He found it rather surprising that people were surprised at how gentle his voice got when he spoke to children; children were innocent, clever, funny individuals, and that made them extremely endearing. Unless they were stealing his money. Then they were just rascals.

“Course I know Clara, everyone knows Clara. But if she ain’t here to tell me it’s alright, I’m not goin’ with ‘em,” the little girl responded, folding her arms over her chest. Her eyes narrowed, almost as if she were challenging Jacob, and he wanted to teasingly tug on the blonde curls poking out from beneath the kerchief she wore to keep her hair from getting caught in machinery. He held out his hands in surrender.

“Alright, then you don’t have to go with them. Would you rather-“

“Sir, we’ve got rozzers comin’,” one of the Rooks interrupted, a burly fellow named…Johnson? Jackson? Blast it, Jacob would ask him later and dedicate it to memory. The warning came only a few seconds before the slap of shoes on the pavement reached Jacob’s ears. A few officers skidded to a halt behind the Rook who had come to warn Jacob, gaping at the mayhem visible through the factory doors.

“What happened here?” a very familiar voice demanded, and Sergeant Abberline shoved a few of his officers and Jacob’s Rook out of the way.

“Ah, Sergeant Abberline, a pleasure as always,” Jacob smirked, winking at the stubborn girl before he stood to face the man.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Freddy growled, ignoring the confusion on the faces of his officers. “What were you thinking?” he whispered, gesturing subtly between the dead body nearest them and the officers behind him.

“The fu-individuals,” Jacob hastily corrected, remembering the young ears behind him, “in this factory were exploiting children and violating several Labour laws. Myself and my Rooks came here with the intention of simply freeing the children, but when the Blighters in charge of this factory pulled weapons, we had to defend ourselves.”

One of the officers snorted in disbelief.

“Oh, I’m sure. Because you and your gang are so much more morally inclined than the Blighters,” he jeered. It was then that the little girl stomped around Jacob to stare down the officers, her hands on her hips.

“The Rooks came ‘ere to help us get out! It was the Blighters that started a fight, they even started threatenin’ us, look!” she said, her voice steady as she held out her arm for the officers to see. There were bruises where a Blighter had grabbed her far too tightly when she wrenched up her sleeve, and when she tipped her head to the side a gash was visible on her neck, no doubt from a Blighter pulling a knife far too close to her. “They done nothin’ wrong, unless helpin’ children an’ protectin’ themselves is a crime now.”

Jacob and the officers gaped at the defiant child.

“And what, may I ask, is your name little miss?” Abberline asked, crouching down so he was at eye level with her.

“Mary sir.”

“Mary what?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Tha’s it. Jus’ Mary. My mum never told me my las’ name, and she died ‘fore I could think to ask her,” Mary answered. Jacob frowned at this, hands twitching sympathetically.

“Would you like to come with us Mary? We can find you somewhere safe to go,” another officer asked, taking after Abberline. Mary jerked back and grabbed at the hem of Jacob’s coat.

“No! I won’t go to the workhouse!” she almost screamed, and before anyone could grab her, she was tearing off down the street. Jacob opened his mouth the tell one of the Rooks to make sure she got to Clara, but someone was already running after her. Abberline shook his head in disbelief and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Right. Frye, we need to have a word. The rest of you lads head back to the station, I’ll get this mess taken care of,” he said.

“But sir-“

“Back to the station!” Abberline snapped, and the officers all turned on their heels and rushed out of the alley between the factory and the fence beside it before they could incite their higher up further. Jacob offered Freddy one of his more charming smiles and tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks for that,” he said once the officers were out of earshot. The Rooks had gone back to cleaning up the factory, and so the conversation was relatively private. Enough that both men felt comfortable discussing their agreement anyway.

“Mister Frye, I know we have an agreement but if you storm a factory with half your gang at your heels, someone’s bound to get the police,” Freddy said, his shoulders visibly tense. Ah. Jacob sighed and scratched at his jaw a little ashamedly.

“Hadn’t really thought about that,” he admitted, looking away.

“I can see that,” Abberline responded. The bitterness in his tone surprised Jacob, who immediately looked back to the officer.

“I will be more discreet about my activities from now on then. My apologies,” Jacob replied. Abberline tugged at his beard and then shook his head.

“You do need to be more discreet, but I…I shouldn’t be so snappy with you either,” he mumbled, brows dipping to reflect his displeasure with himself. “You are a good man Jacob. You might have a very unorthodox way of going about things, but your intentions are good. I would hate to see you getting into trouble because of a momentary lapse of judgement. A lot of people are counting on you whether they know it or not.”

Jacob’s face flushed. “Freddy, is this your way of saying you like me?” he asked teasingly. Abberline made a sort of choking noise and Jacob wanted to crow in victory when he blushed as well.

“Like I said, I think you’re a good man. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go make sure that the idiots I’m in charge of today don’t muck anything up on their way back to the station,” Freddy said. If his voice was a bit tense, it wasn’t an issue to Jacob. He grinned as Abberline walked away, feeling lighter than he had in days.

“Alright boys, let’s see if we can’t make us some money,” he called out to the Rooks in the factory, clapping his hands together and bounding into the building with a noticeable bounce in his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical note: [contains discussions of sexual acts but no descriptions] 
> 
> when Jacob is thinking about the possible repercussions of kissing Freddy, he alludes to jail time, a death penalty, and a charge of 'gross indecency'. Up until 1861, men accused of having anal sex were sentenced to death if these accusations held true in court. This was often directly correlated with bigotry, and such accusations and rumors were often more dangerous than the acts that they were referring to. Syndicate is set in 1868, so the death penalty is no longer a thing, but men caught having anal sex could be sentenced to significant jail time. Interestingly enough, only penetrative sexual acts between men were illegal until 1885. The Labouchere Amendment of 1885 made "gross indecency", a deliberately vague term that encompassed all expressions of male homosexuality, a crime in the United Kingdom. It was (understandably) very difficult to catch homosexuals "in the act" so to speak, so this made it easier to prosecute them. The maximum penalty was 2 years in prison with or without hard labour. Alan Turing and Oscar Wilde were both victims of this amendment. Lesbians were excluded from this law because Queen Victoria believed it impossible for lesbians to exist. Go figure, right?
> 
> The Amendment was also aimed to help protect young women, raising the age of consent from 13 to 16, and helped to crack down on prostitution, especially in cases where girls were being exploited. Which is good. But it was mostly a very fucked up situation. 
> 
> Homosexual acts were not decriminalized in England and Wales until 1967, and the act was fully repealed by the Sexual Offences Act of 2003.


	3. Tipsy, Tiptoeing, Tipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night at the pub for the twins takes an unexpected turn. Jacob owes Freddy an explanation, and revelations are made.

“So then this little _pipsqueak_ starts mouthing off to the bobbies, I swear to you,” Jacob laughed, sloshing a bit of his stout over the bar as he gestured excitedly. Evie shook her head fondly and took a long sip of her own.

“And did they believe her?” she asked, leaning a bit to the side so she could rest her elbow against the edge of the bar.

“Yes!” Jacob cried. He had been looking forward to telling Evie this story all day, and she was reacting just as he had hoped. Although her movements were much more contained than his, he knew she was equally amused and excited by this little urchin.

“I hope she made it to Clara alright,” Evie said.

“She did; Janey let me know the second she got back. From the sound of it, she’s pretty excited about helping out the Rooks,” Jacob grinned, spinning his stool around so he could lean his back against the bar. He looked around the pub over the brim of his glass, simply glad he could finally relax for once. The air was thick with pipe smoke, and in the corner several men were hooting and hollering as their mates arm wrestled. There were a few patrons talking quietly at the table nearest the front window, but the late evening was giving way to its typical drunken debauchery. And Jacob loved it.

“Bet you could beat that guy over there,” he said, jerking his head towards the apparent champion arm wrestler. Evie snickered and slammed her empty glass down onto the bar.

“I probably could, but I’m not going to. I’m already getting enough attention just being here,” she grinned, waving at the bar keep to get her another stout. He gave her an odd look but complied, and Evie slid the money over to him without complaint.

“I think that the man over there is planning to propose to you,” Jacob teased. One of the men at the window table had been staring, moon-eyed, at Evie for at least the past twenty minutes. Evie glanced at the man and snorted into her drink.

“Please. He’d take three steps over here and then piss himself, and even if he did propose he’d be out of luck,” she muttered. Jacob let out a barking laugh at that and chugged down the remainder of his drink. At this point the barkeep had caught on to the fact that the twins were planning on getting well and truly drunk, so he just walked over and refilled Jacob’s drink without a word.

“Good old Mr. Green.”

“Mmhmm.”

They fell into a companionable silence, each of them simply absorbing the atmosphere of the pub while they drank. Jacob was well on his way to drunk, and he found himself wishing he could shrug off his coat. However, that would require not only taking off his gauntlet, but revealing the fair armoury he was carrying on his person. The tables in the centre of the pub were starting to get rowdier, but Jacob thought nothing of it until a man was launched between him and Evie, slamming hard into the bar before toppling onto the floor.

“Get up you bastard!” another man bellowed, fists raised. Jacob and Evie exchanged a look before simultaneously picking up their drinks and shifting over a few seats.

“A shilling on that guy,” Jacob muttered, nodding to the man who had fallen over. He was on his feet now, swaying slightly, but he seemed pretty angry and his stance was far more solid than the other’s.

“No way, he’s far too drunk to fight properly,” Evie replied. “The man in the blue shirt is going to win.”

“We’ll see,” Jacob mused, leaning back to watch the chaos erupt around them. A few of their fellow patrons were slipping out the door, not wanting to get caught in the middle of a pub fight. Others were cheering on their favoured fighter, and the men that were arm wrestling in the corner largely ignored the commotion. The barkeep looked rather annoyed, but he just kept serving drinks to whoever came over.

Until the fight became an all-out brawl, and furniture was being thrown about.

“What say you Evie?” Jacob asked, teetering side to side with a dopey, drunken grin on his face. He gestured at the mob of bodies.

“No way. We’re drunk and we aren’t getting arrested tonight, I’ve got way too many weapons on me,” Evie replied, leaning heavily into Jacob with an equally dopey grin on her face. “Let’s jus’ watch.”

“Okay.”

A stool went through the window, and a shrill whistle shortly followed the sound of shattering glass. Jacob and Evie quickly returned to their seats and got another drink, pretending for all the world that the fight wasn’t happening.

“Break it up!” someone roared, and there were a few more moments of people yelling over each other before the all too familiar sound of billy clubs hitting heads reached Jacob’s ears. The fight ended rather quickly after that, and the participants were being dragged out one by one to be tossed into one of several police wagons that had been stopped outside the pub.

“Couldn’t have waited five damn minutes, could they?” someone groused. “Nah, you bring ‘em in. My shift’s over.”

The speaker flopped down onto the stool next to Evie and very calmly ordered a whiskey. The barkeep stared at him in disbelief for a second, and then complied, bringing the liquor over. Evie swung her seat around to get a glimpse of the newcomer and nearly squealed in delight.

“Sergeant Abberline!”

Jacob perked up at this, elbow slipping off the edge of the bar and nearly sending him to the ground before he leaned back so he could see the officer. It was indeed the sergeant, looking rather put out and not the least bit happy as he dropped his pocket watch. Its chain prevented it from hitting the ground and it slapped against Freddy’s waistcoat for a second.

“Why am I not surprised that you two are here?” he asked, throwing back his drink.

“Dunno,” Jacob replied. “Probably because where we go-“

“Trouble follows,” Evie finished, and the two snickered. They had heard the phrase repeated so many times throughout their lives that it became something of a joke between them.

“That’s for damn sure,” Abberline agreed, gratefully accepting his refill.

“Look, I know it’s early an’ all, but I’m gonna have to close once you three are done with those drinks. Someone has to clean up that mess,” the barkeep suddenly interrupted. The twins snorted at this, Jacob reeling off of his seat and clapping Evie on the back. She understood the unspoken challenge immediately, and they tapped glasses before chugging their drinks. Jacob placed the money for the rest of their tab on the bar, along with a few extra shillings to help cover the damages even though he hadn’t caused them, and then glanced at Sergeant Abberline.

“Say Freddy, how about you join us for the evening?” he asked. Evie raised a brow at him but made no comment, and Abberline slung back his second drink. He passed his money to the barkeep as well and stood up, looking rather contemplative. After a few seconds the tension in his face faded slightly, and he shrugged.

“Ah, why not?” he said, following after the twins.

 

 

Jacob realised that Freddy was finding out very quickly why not as the three of them tore down a back alley, five or six Blighters on their heels.

“I thought you said this was Rooks territory!” Abberline yelled as they cut another corner.

“It is!” Evie hollered back, unsurprisingly the most coordinated one out of the three of them. “Come on, the train’s bound to be ‘round here in a few minutes!”

“The train?” Abberline questioned, risking a glance at the Blighters. They were far soberer than any of them, and were gaining on them fast. Jacob sucked in a sharp breath at that; he hadn’t shown Abberline their hideout, and for good reason. The less he knew about their clandestine way of life, the less at risk he was. But they were running out of options, so Jacob swallowed his apprehensions and stopped under the train overpass.

“Come on,” he said, not hesitating to grab Abberline and sling him over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!”

Evie and Jacob fired their rope launchers at the same time and soared up towards the tracks, although Jacob went a bit more slowly thanks to Abberline’s added weight. He dropped the man the moment they were on steady ground and looked left and right.

“Which track?” he asked Evie. Evie pointed to the furthest track from them and started to stumble on over.

“Okay, I want to know what the hell is going on before we do anything else!” Abberline bellowed. Apparently the man was far more assertive when he was drunk, and Jacob rather liked that.

“It’s hard to explain,” Evie called. The clack of an approaching train was growing louder, drowning out the shouts of the enraged Blighters below them. “Just trust us for a few more minutes and then we’ll explain.”

“You two are insane!” was the emphatic reply. Jacob and Evie both let out a laugh at that and got ready to start running as the sound of the train overwhelmed any other commentary. Evie reached out and grabbed one of the handles on the side of the car near the crossing platform and stumbled into the train. Jacob gestured at Abberline to do the same, and the officer hesitated for a moment before managing to pull himself onto the train as well. It was no easy feat, Jacob realised, boarding a moving train while completely of your arse, and he nearly fell off the car before a pair of hands grabbed the side of his jacket and hauled him into the train. He stumbled and fell, landing on top of Abberline.

“Well that could’ve gone better,” he smirked. Abberline slapped at his shoulders and flailed a bit.

“Get off of me, you’re heavy!” the sergeant demanded, and Jacob rolled over, getting to his feet and offering Freddy a hand. Once Freddy was on his feet both men started to laugh, and Evie soon joined in as she wandered over from the car she had boarded.

“Welcome to our train,” she said, holding out her arms dramatically.

“Wait…your train?” Freddy questioned, eyes flickering around the car. They were in the car that the Rooks generally occupied, so there were weapons, medical supplies, a few yellow scarves, newspapers, and a few interesting items that the twins had found around the city lying about.

“Yep,” Jacob replied, popping the p. “This is our train. Bit of a hideout.”

“I can see that,” Abberline muttered, picking up a rather wicked looking knife before returning it to where it was stabbed through a rickety shelf.

“Come on, let’s go into a nicer car,” Evie said, leading them down the train. They passed through the dining car and came to the car where they spent most of their time. Evie immediately began shucking her outerwear, unbuckling her gauntlet and tossing it onto Agnes’ desk before hanging her coat up on one of the hooks on the wall.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Jacob said to Freddy as he put his gauntlet beside Evie’s and hung his hat and coat on their respective pegs. Freddy didn’t move, staring at the wall across from him. Jacob found it curious for a moment, but then his stomach twisted.

The assassination wall.

“You are very methodical,” Freddy muttered, stepping forward to touch the red string that connected Starrick’s picture to the Earl of Cardigan’s. Jacob looked at Evie pleadingly, but she simply shook her head and gave him a ‘just explain’ gesture before she ducked out of the car to go to her sleeping car at the back of the train.

“I promised you an explanation,” Jacob sighed once Evie left, and Freddy finally turned to look at him. There was something curious in Abberline’s expression, a combination of acceptance and disbelief, and he sank down onto the chaise lounge across from the wall.

“So explain,” he slurred. Jacob groaned inwardly, wishing that neither of them were drunk. This was a delicate conversation, and not one he had been planning on having. He shoved a few strands of hair out of his face and then simply flopped down next to Abberline.

“Evie and I are Assassins.”

“I put that much together on my own.”

Jacob let out a soft sound of surprise and turned so that he could look at Abberline while he spoke to him.

“There is a lot you don’t know about us. The way we work, the people we work with and against, but you…are already involved,” Jacob sighed, swaying a bit. “But let’s just say that there are people like me and Evie all over the world, doing the same sorta stuff we’re doing.”

“Killing people and saving cities?” Freddy asked. They stared at each other for a second and then started to laugh.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Jacob agreed, leaning back so that he would stop shifting from side to side. He slung an arm over the back of the lounge and grinned drunkenly at Abberline. “It’s sorta like a big gang.”

“Family thing?” Abberline questioned. Jacob’s brows furrowed, but then the connection was made.

“Family thing,” he said. Freddy shook his head and leaned back as well, his bowler hat falling off and onto the floor as the brim hit Jacob’s arm.

“I feel like…as a cop…I should be more alarmed,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “But I trust you too much to even worry.”

“You trust me?” The surprise was evident in Jacob’s voice, and his mouth ran a little dry. He too began to look at the ceiling, unable to look at Freddy’s face until he heard the answer.

“Yes. You saved the Queen, you help me catch criminals, _and_ your Rooks stopped killing my guys,” Freddy said, a broad smile stretching across his face even though Jacob wasn’t looking at him. “I think I trust you more than anyone else in London.”

Jacob’s heart lodged itself into his throat and he finally looked at Freddy. Freddy was still beaming, eyes warm and full of affection even behind the glaze of drunkenness. Once again, Jacob was seized by the urge to kiss the sergeant until he was dizzy with the need to breathe. Abberline’s lips parted a bit as they stared at each other, eyes flickering down to Jacob’s mouth before resuming the eye contact. Jacob tipped towards him, so ready to cross that unspoken line, but then he froze. No. Frederick was a police officer. He was also drunk. They were both very, very drunk. He would not kiss him, not like this. Probably not ever. Freddy swallowed audibly and then Jacob tipped the rest of the way forward, bringing the arm on the back of the lounge around to hug Freddy close. He buried his face in the crook of Abberline’s neck, smiling at the way the man’s beard tickled against his neck and ear despite the crushing sadness that he felt. This was yet another impossibility for Jacob, but unlike Pearl and Maxwell, he could have this, this friendship, this trust. Abberline relaxed into the touch and rested his chin on Jacob’s shoulder as he stroked his hand up and down Jacob’s back, fingers trailing along the bumps of the Assassin’s spine.

“I know,” Freddy whispered, and Jacob let out a shaky sigh. “I know.”

 

 

They fell asleep on the lounge, Freddy blanketed over Jacob with his head pillowed on his chest, but in the morning the only part of Freddy left was the phantom pressure of his weight and warmth on top of Jacob. Something hot balled up in Jacob’s throat and he put his head in his hands. What had Abberline meant by “I know”? Did he feel the same burning affection for Jacob that Jacob felt for him? He had certainly wanted to kiss Jacob, but Jacob was unsure if that was just drunken foolishness or genuine attraction. Shaking his head, Jacob went to stand, but when he did his now bare foot settled on top of a book. Frowning, he picked it up. It was one of Evie’s, but there was a piece of paper sticking out from between two pages with a hastily scribbled _J_ at the top. Jacob cracked open the book and the heat in his throat threatened to make his eyes well up with tears. He read the page aloud, but so quietly that it almost sounded like he was praying.

_“Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,_

_The dear repose for limbs with travail tired,_

_But then begins a journey in my head_

_To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired._

_For then my thoughts (from far, where I abide)_

_Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,_

_And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,_

_Looking on darkness which the blind do see;_

_Save that my soul’s imaginary sight_

_Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,_

_Which like a jewel (hung in ghastly night)_

_Makes black Night beauteous, and her old face new._

_Lo, thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,_

_For thee, and for myself, no quiet find._

“Well that answers that question,” Jacob muttered after sitting there in stunned silence for an incalculable amount of time. He was suddenly grateful that his father had forced him and Evie both to study not only what all Assassins studied, but also literature, science, math, and the arts. Evie had taken to the academic pursuits more readily than Jacob, who had found them boring in his younger years, but Jacob still had learned enough to properly understand what the sonnet meant. Grinning to himself, he flipped through the book of sonnets to find an appropriate response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh alcohol, bringing emotionally constipated yet obviously infatuated individuals together since the dawn of time. I do not recommend trying to board a moving train while highly intoxicated, but the trains in the game don't seem to move all that quickly when they're coming around curves or approaching stations. Adding in the fact that they're trains in the 1800s and not bullet trains now, I feel like it would be possible but difficult for someone to do what those 3 loons did in this chapter. But like I said earlier, 10/10 would not recommend. 
> 
> The sonnet is Sonnet 27 by William Shakespeare. Judging by the amount of books on the train, I find it reasonable to assume that both Evie and Jacob are very well educated, even if Jacob is a bit roguish. I feel like Freddy would have to be well educated, or at least very intelligent, to pull off some of his schemes as well, and combining that with my thinking that Freddy would be a very romantic sort of fellow resulted in the fluff at the end of this chapter.


	4. Exploitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blighters discover that the Frye twins have a weakness and then use it to their advantage. Jacob is on a warpath and somehow manages to drag half of London into the fight.

Rain spattered against the windows of the train as it chugged its way steadily through the Strand, smoke concealed by the gloomy skies. Jacob was rather dry and content for once, having agreed to take shifts with Evie now that the most significant threat to London's safety had been eliminated. He was leaning against the workbench in the back car of the train staring at the equations on the blackboard by the inner door. While he wasn't as bright as Aleck when it came to inventing things, especially mechanical things, he knew his way around numbers...and explosives. He had come to believe that the smoke bombs that he and Evie were using were no longer sufficient enough to suit their needs; they needed something that lasted longer, covered them better, and would go off with less noise if possible. His prototypes had failed time and time again though, the last one letting out a pathetic puff of smoke that reeked of rotten eggs and burnt coal, and so it was back to the drawing board. The chalk wove through his fingers effortlessly as he stared at the equations, wondering where he had gone wrong last time, but he dropped it in mild surprise when Evie came flying into the car, her rage just as palpable as the rivulets of rain running down the leather of her coat and dripping onto the ground.

“The Blighters have reclaimed a stronghold in Southwark,” she gasped, stomping on the chalk that Jacob had dropped as she stormed past him to grab a medical kit that was sitting on one of the haphazardly stuffed shelves. “From the sounds of it, Cletus Strain isn’t too happy we’re encroaching on his territory.”

“Which stronghold did they take?” Jacob asked, surprisingly calm in the face of Evie’s anger. If she was this upset, he knew he would have to maintain some semblance of self-control unless they wanted this to go south more quickly than it apparently had already.

“The Mint,” Evie muttered, pressing a bandage scrap to her bottom lip. There was a small trickle of blood running down her chin, and her right eye was already swelling up, darkly bruised. Jacob let out a small huff of irritation and walked over to his sister, physically turning her side to side to make sure that she wasn’t hiding any severe injuries. Her hair was a mess, the plait half ripped out and the bun drooping dangerously low on the nape of her neck as if someone had grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled, and her delicate neck was marred by purple fingerprints, but she seemed to be alright otherwise.

“What happened then? They must’ve had some pretty impressive numbers to have gotten a jump on you and Chetta,” Jacob asked. Evie’s head ducked down towards her chest and she shook her head slightly.

“Apparently some of Clara’s urchins had taken to hanging around The Mint when the weather gets bad. The Rooks don’t mind them since they know they’re under our protection, and they apparently have taken a liking to the Rooks that stay at The Mint most of the time, so it wasn’t a problem until today,” Evie began, dabbing at her split lip one more time before dropping the bloody scrap of cloth into the nearest rubbish bin. Jacob’s stomach twisted.

“What did they do to them?” he demanded, feeling something hot ignite in his chest.

“They’ve taken them hostage,” she replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. “They know that the Rooks are under strict instruction not to hurt innocent people, and they know that we won’t put the children at risk. We had a good fight going until someone found one of the kids hiding under some stairs, and then it was over.”

“Damn it!” Jacob yelled, slamming his fist down on the workbench. “I’ll kill them. I swear, once we come up with a plan to get those kids to safety, I will kill every last Blighter in that stronghold and send their heads to Cletus Strain in a hatbox.”

Evie chuckled weakly despite the seriousness of the situation and rolled her head to stretch out her neck.

“We both will, but like you said, we need a plan. I sent a message out to Henry, and hopefully on his way to Waterloo now, and one to the leaders at Black Swan Yard, Jacob’s Island, Spitalfields, and Field Lane telling them to meet us at the usual place at half-nine tonight. I went to Clara myself and told her to ensure that all of the children under her care remain hidden until she gets the all clear from one of us as well,” Evie mumbled, wincing as her neck cracked loudly.

“And here I was tinkering all day,” Jacob said, placing a gentle hand on Evie’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you sorted before Mister Green gets here. I know he’d still adore you, black eye and all, but I doubt you want to be seen by anyone looking like you got hit by a carriage,” he teased. Evie glared at him for a brief instant, but grimaced when the movement agitated her now almost completely swollen eye. Jacob led her down through the Rooks’ car and then kicked out the chair near his desk, guiding Evie into it. She straddled the seat and rested her chin atop the back of it, letting out a slow breath. Jacob had no doubt that she was exhausted and aching; gang fights weren’t exactly easy on the body regardless of how much training you had. Both of them were capable fighters, but he knew that in closed quarters where the numbers were tipped well out of your favour it was easy to get your arse handed to you. Evie spared him a curious glance as he ducked down into her car and returned with her silver backed brush and comb, but said nothing once he started gingerly plucking out her hair pins. Her bun collapsed as he did so, and once all of her hair was free of its restraints, including the thin strip of leather she tied it back with, it tumbled down her shoulders in a wavy mess.

“You haven’t done this in a while,” Evie mumbled, the tension in her shoulders bleeding away as Jacob began combing the knots out of her hair. Jacob chuckled and switched from comb to brush, smoothing her hair out.

“I haven’t needed to. You usually don’t get dragged around by your hair anymore,” he replied calmly, and when her hair was tamed he sectioned off a bit of the front and swept the rest of it up into the leather tie once more. His fingers made quick work of re-plaiting it, and once Evie’s usual plait-bun was formed he pinned it into place. “There, all prettied up for Mister Green.”

Evie let out a laugh and let her head tip forward again so that she could rest her forehead on her arms. “I’ve missed this you know, us being friends,” she said, eyes following Jacob as he flopped down onto the chaise lounge. Jacob grinned at that and gently kicked the leg of Evie’s chair.

“I’m glad to see that you two are still amicable towards one another,” Mister Green said, emerging from the front of the train. Jacob wanted to snort as Evie immediately perked up, although he bit back the sound when he saw the look that crossed Henry’s face upon him seeing the damage the Blighters had dealt to her face. Jacob had been so wrapped up in taking care of Evie that he hadn’t even realised the train had stopped.

“Us, not be amicable towards one another? Mister Green, you wound me,” Jacob drawled, and the corner of Henry’s mouth twitched up even as the other Assassin crouched down in front of Evie and cupped her chin gently in his hand.

“I hope this is a case of ‘you should see the man who fought me’,” he murmured, tipping her head side to side with such gentleness that Jacob felt as if he were intruding upon a very intimate moment. Evie’s cheeks flushed slightly.

“Well the one who got me by the neck is dead,” she replied, reaching up to squeeze his wrist reassuringly. Jacob’s stomach twisted and he had to beat down the intense jealousy that was threatening to rise up and shake him like a dog shook a bone.

“And the others will need to follow in his path shortly,” Jacob said, rising from the seat. Henry immediately backed away, looking almost intimidated for a moment, and looked to Evie.

“I was able to get a look inside the stronghold before I reached the station; their security is good, too good to bring in another group of Rooks,” Henry said.

“And the children?” Evie asked.

“Still trapped inside. The Blighters have them in the central building on the second floor. They looked frightened but uninjured, and I am hoping that they remain that way,” Henry replied.

“But the question is how long that will last,” Jacob growled, crossing over to his desk so that he could pull a map of London out from under the hodgepodge of other papers laying across its surface. He pinned it to the Assassination Wall with a tack. “There are still countless factories on the other side of the Thames that we haven’t liberated yet, and I have no doubt that the Blighters will send those children into any one of them once they think that the threat has passed.”

“Then we need to act before they move them,” Evie said. Jacob frowned and stared at the map, stabbing pins through it where he knew unliberated factories stood.

“If their security is as tight as Henry suggests, it’ll have to be the two of us. We cannot risk an all-out assault on the stronghold; they might hurt those children if they know that we’re coming,” Jacob sighed.

“I want to help,” Henry said almost defensively. Jacob’s lips thinned. Henry still wasn’t the strongest fighter in the world, but he was stealthy and almost as clever as Evie when it came to tactical manoeuvres. Perhaps he could be of use while simultaneously being out of the way. But how? Jacob folded his arms across his chest and continued to stare at the map, mind racing at a mile a minute.

“What if we assembled a group of some of our more skilled Rooks and had them hide in the area of the stronghold? Once Evie and I free the children, we could signal you to lead the Rooks in to eliminate the remaining Blighters,” Jacob finally suggested. Evie made a sound of surprise and Jacob smirked. He was getting good at this thinking things through thing.

“Not a bad idea Jacob, not bad at all.”

 

 

The rain didn’t let up when they approached the stronghold the next night, relying on the cloak of darkness and the lack of people on the streets to help mask their approach.

“Remember, they can’t know we’re here until the children are safe,” Jacob whispered as they made their way across the rooftops of Southwark. Evie rolled her eyes and launched herself onto the next building.

“I know,” she hissed in reply, bending into a crouch as they got close. Jacob closed his eyes and let his second sight take over, casting the world in a bluish-grey light that had taken him years to get used to. He could see people emerge from the shadows in bursts of red all around the stronghold, and there was a flash of green to his right; Evie. Smaller white silhouettes marked where the children were, clustered together in the corner of the central most building on the second floor, just as Henry had reported.

“I’ll take out the snipers; once they’re down, move inward and only kill who you have to in order to clear a path for us to escort the children out,” Evie instructed, and with that she was darting off towards the nearest blur of red.

 

By the time Jacob dropped in through the window he was soaked to the bone in both blood and water, and one of the children whimpered as he approached.

“It’s alright,” Jacob whispered, taking a knee and pushing back his hood so that they could see him. All of the children in Clara’s network had met the Frye twins, either as soon as they were liberated from the factories or whenever Clara showed them around the boltholes that they occupied.

“Mister Frye!” a little voice gasped, and a girl shoved her way through the small group of children to launch herself at him. He grunted as her body slammed into him, but he returned the hug all the same before pulling her back to see who it was.

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary!” he grinned. The little rascal that had made quite an impression on him several weeks ago had become one of his most profitable pickpockets, and Clara had told him that she was quite the daredevil as well, performing acrobatic stunts that astonished some of the other children in order to get away from the scenes of her crimes unpunished.

“I told them you’d come!” she whispered fiercely, and Jacob tugged at one of her curls.

“Couldn’t leave my best workers in a lurch, could I?” he asked, and some of the other children giggled, obviously feeling much safer now that one of the twins was there. Evie slipped in through the window then and cleared her throat.

“We need to move quickly. There’s a patrol that’ll cut across the back alley in a few minutes, and the children need to be out of the stronghold by then or we’ll be caught,” she said, and despite the blood spattered across her face and her serious tone, she still ruffled one of the boy’s hair as she passed.

 

 

The children followed them quietly and Jacob couldn’t help but think of the image of lambs following wolves. His heart was pounding by the time they got to the gate of the stronghold, but his tension dissolved the second the children were out safely. He motioned to one of the Rooks that was lurking in the doorway of the pub across the street, and he scurried over to lead the children to the safe zone that Clara had chosen nearby. Once they were well on their way, Jacob turned towards the roof that Henry was waiting on and raised his arm to signal him. A sharp whistle cracked through the din of the rain and a mass of Rooks emerged from the shadows, racing into the stronghold in a storm of green and yellow. Evie darted off to join them, and Jacob took a slightly longer path to block off the other entrance should anyone try to make a break for it. The sound of battle broke out a few seconds later, but it was over almost as quickly as it had begun; Jacob and Evie had been forced to take out a significant part of the Blighter presence in the stronghold in order to get the children out. He heard Evie and Henry exchange whistles that signalled the all clear, and Jacob took a step forward, a grin plastered to his face. Another day, another victory in the books for the Rooks.

And then a shot rang out. A searing pain lanced up Jacob’s arm, forcing a grunt out of him as he felt hot metal tear through the side of his arm. He spun just in time to see one of the Blighters duck into an alleyway across the street and he took off after him, ignoring the way his right arm was throbbing. He knew it wasn’t a fatal shot, nothing more than a graze, but it hurt like the devil and it certainly wasn’t going to be fun if it got infected. However, catching the last of the Blighters was propelling him forward. The man was fast though, faster than Jacob, and knew his way through Southwark in a way that even Jacob hadn’t mastered yet. Adding in the fact that he kept firing at Jacob, and it was easily one of the most arduous chases of Jacob’s life. The chase eventually led them across the Thames and through the Strand until Jacob finally lost him somewhere around Scotland Yard. Aching from what were now multiple gunshot graze wounds, dizzy, and ready to drop from exhaustion, Jacob stumbled toward the police headquarters. Ordinarily he knew that the move would be insane, but he was half delirious from pain and needed someone that he could trust. He nearly screamed in pain as he used his rope launcher to drag himself up the side of the building, which was fairly quiet in the night hours, and managed to slip in through an open window without being seen. His second sight revealed blurs of blue in far fewer numbers than usually occupied the building, but it was the glow of green a few rooms down that truly put Jacob at ease. He couldn’t just walk to Abberline’s office though, there were two officers between himself and the other man, and so he forced himself out onto the side of the building and gritted his teeth as he scuttled over a few windows. Freddy’s window, mercifully, was open, and the man was hunched over his desk, his back to the window. A few lanterns lit the room well enough, and the exhaustion overwhelmed Jacob as he stumbled in through the window. Freddy’s chair screeched back at the sound of feet hitting the floor behind him, and he looked both terrified and enraged when he saw Jacob swaying in place.

“Hiya Freddy,” Jacob grinned, and then the black that had been lingering at the edges of his vision swallowed up the rest of the world and he hit the floor with a resounding thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love the idea of Jacob being all stone-cold-badass around adults and then just letting his goofy side come out as soon as kids are around. Also, I know in the game Jacob and Evie can get shot quite a few times before dying, but in real life that wouldn't really happen so I'm just going to say that they can take grazes pretty well before the shock catches up to them.


	5. Initiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick has his hands full with an injured Jacob and enlists the help of Miss Nightingale to get one of their two favourite Assassins back in working order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to try Freddy's point of view...sooooo here it is. Enjoy!

Frederick winced as Jacob hit the ground, but moved from his chair as soon as the man had dropped.

“You alright Abberline?” one of the constables asked, nudging the door open just as Frederick crouched down to check Jacob’s pulse. “Who the hell is that?”

Frederick felt his jaw clench and he took a slow breath before turning towards the constable. “I’m fine Matthews. This is a…friend of mine. He got pretty roughed up from the looks of it.”

“I’d say. He’s knocked out cold, innit he?” Matthews said, walking over to check on Jacob as well. Frederick resisted the urge to push the constable away and instead flashed him a tight grin.

“Yes, he is. What I’m more curious about, however, is how he managed to get all the way up to my office without any of you noticing him. I know he’s a bit light on his feet, but this? This is unacceptable,” he growled. Matthews blanched and took a step back.

“I…I’m not entirely sure sir. Bishop and I were talking to Collins, but the door was open. I-I’ll go ask if they heard anything, but I can’t say anything for the men downstairs,” Matthews rambled, and with that he was darting from Frederick’s office to go hiss at the other men on the floor. Once he was gone, Frederick gently tapped Jacob’s face, grimacing at how cold his skin was.

“Come on Frye, wake up,” he murmured, shaking the man’s shoulders when the pats to his face had no effect. “Jacob, I need you to get up now,” he pressed. “Jacob, please.”

Jacob stirred slightly at the last request, and Frederick let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. A groan escaped the Assassin and Frederick helped to shift him into a seated position, supporting him with an arm around his shoulders.

“Freddy?” Jacob asked, eyes glazed over slightly. Frederick’s lips twitched in fond annoyance at the moniker and he nodded.

“Yes, it’s me. Why are you dropping in through my window this late at night if you don’t even have the decency to stay awake long enough to tell me why you’re here?” he teased, letting his eyes trail over Jacob’s form to see if he was injured. Blood was mixing with the water soaked into Jacob’s coat, and the midnight blue fabric was an inky black in several places. There was a large gash through the right sleeve, just below Jacob’s shoulder, and upon further inspection Frederick realised it was a significantly deep bullet wound; a graze, thankfully, but a deep one. It would certainly need stitches. Jacob let out a breathy laugh and leaned into Frederick.

“You happened to be nearby,” he mumbled weakly, almost nuzzling into Frederick’s chest as he no doubt sought out some warmth. Frederick frowned.

“Lucky for you,” Frederick said, moving his arm from around Jacob’s shoulder to under his arm, draping Jacob’s arm across his shoulders. “Let’s get you up,” he added, grunting as he hauled Jacob to his feet. The other man groaned at the change in position and leaned heavily into Frederick’s side. Jacob was a tad shorter than him, but his muscular frame meant that he was a good bit heavier than Frederick anyway.

“Where’re we going?” Jacob slurred as Frederick shuffled them towards the door, pausing only to grab his coat and sling it over Jacob’s broad shoulders.

“You need a doctor, or at least someone better at this than I am,” Frederick answered, pulling the door to his office shut with his foot. “Matthews, make sure someone puts the lights out in my office, we don’t need the place burning down. Collins, help me get this man down to the street would you?”

The constable and the other sergeant scrambled to assist Frederick, and Frederick had to suppress a grin. He knew that they would be feeling rather foolish for having let Jacob slip by them, even if Jacob had done so by crawling along the outside of the building like a thief. Once Collins had his arm around Jacob’s waist, it was much easier for Frederick to navigate them through the hallway, down the stairs, and out to the courtyard.

“What the hell happened to him?” Collins asked as they went.

“Mugged,” Jacob grunted, his head lolling from side to side as they went but his eyes still partially open. “I knew…Sergeant Abberline could help me.”

“You definitely came to the right man,” Collins said, raising his eyebrows at Frederick. “Where’re you taking him then?”

“Lambeth; I know a nurse in the borough who will be able to help since it’ll be hard to get a doctor this time of night,” Frederick replied as they shuffled through the gate and onto the pavement. “Cab!” he called as one trundled by, and the driver tugged on the reigns almost immediately. “Thank you for this; I’ll be sure to keep this whole…incident between us. I doubt any of the higher ups want to be bothered by it, and I doubt such a slip in our security will happen again.”

“Of course. Thank you Abberline,” Collins squeaked, his face growing a bit pale. Frederick grinned at him as he heaved Jacob into the cab.

“Not a problem. Driver, to Lambeth please,” he called, slipping into the cab and settling down beside Jacob. The driver clicked the reins and the carriage started off towards the borough, gently rolling and bumping along the cobblestone streets.

“Why are we going to Lambeth?” Jacob asked, slouching into Frederick. Frederick sighed softly and wrapped an arm around Jacob’s shoulders, telling himself it was to keep the barely conscious man from face planting into the seat across from them.

“I know you and your sister have helped Miss Nightingale in the past, and from what I hear she is one of the best. I figured it would be better to bring you there than to a hospital. A hospital might start asking questions, and I’m sure that you wouldn’t care for an official inquiry into your ‘mugging’.”

Jacob huffed and continued to drop to the side until he was twisted into a rather uncomfortable looking position, his legs tangled together and pressed against the door, his lower body squished against the wall of his carriage, and his head and upper body in Frederick’s lap. His cap landed on the floor with a wet slap and Frederick frowned.

“You should probably stay awake Mister Frye; you might be in shock,” Frederick murmured. Jacob grunted and let out a soft groan as a particularly rough patch of road jostled them both.

“I like it better when you call me Jacob,” the Assassin slurred, and with that his eyes fell shut.

“I am sure you do,” Frederick sighed, and he gave in to the urge to run his fingers through Jacob’s shaggy hair until they arrived a few blocks from Lambeth Asylum.

Once Frederick passed the money to the driver, he hauled Jacob out of the carriage and started down the winding street that would lead them to the flat he knew Miss Nightingale occupied. A few people shot him odd, suspicious looks, but Jacob managed to stay conscious enough to stumble along with him. Frederick’s mind was a mess, half of it praying that Miss Nightingale was actually in and the other half contemplating the strong tug in his stomach that he felt whenever he acknowledged the warm weight of Jacob’s body pressed against his side. He knew such feelings were…problematic, and he had drunkenly (yet cryptically) revealed that they existed, but he had yet to actually act upon them otherwise. Now was certainly not the time, not with Jacob half awake and reopening his wounds every step they took, but part of him wondered if there would ever be an appropriate time. His thoughts continued to volley back and forth between intense concern and an almost pathetic longing until he reached Miss Nightingale’s flat and knocked on the door. The curtains flickered open and he saw the nurse look down at them before snapping them shut again, and hurried footfalls could be heard before the door swung open.

“Mister Frye!” the nurse breathed, barely sparing Frederick a glance as she slipped a strong yet thin arm around Jacob’s still form. “Help me bring him inside,” she commanded, and Frederick found himself trudging up the stairs carrying the none too light weight of Jacob Frye once more.

 

 

For reasons he didn’t care to examine, Frederick stayed the entire time Miss Nightingale patched Jacob up. She insisted that he wait in her sitting room, although she invited him to make himself some tea if he wished, and then swept Jacob away into the spare room to tend to his wounds. Frederick’s stomach was in far too many knots to drink tea even though he was aware that Jacob was nowhere close to dying from his wounds, and so he simply sat on her sofa trying to keep his soiled clothing off of the upholstery and flipping Jacob’s cap around in his hands. His head snapped up when the door finally opened, a bit closer to midnight than Frederick would have liked, and Miss Nightingale wearily slipped out of the room.

“He’s all stitched up and a little delirious, but he’s been demanding I send you in for the past twenty minutes or so,” she said, smiling a bit fondly despite her obvious exhaustion. “I don’t suggest moving him until morning, so if you’d like to stay here you may. There is a chair in the other room, or you can sleep on the sofa, but I am going to go to bed now.”

“Thank you Miss Nightingale,” Frederick said, rising to his feet. “We can discuss payment in the morning. I hope you sleep well; I do feel bad for waking you but I figured this would be the best place to go.”

Miss Nightingale chuckled fondly and shook her head. “Payment will not be necessary for the Fryes; their services to this city are payment enough. I understand your wish to keep him safe though…most of his associates feel the same.” And with that she was striding off towards her bedroom. Frederick stood there for a moment, a bit surprised, and then he walked into the room where Jacob was, shutting the door behind him.

 

Jacob was pale and a bit sweaty, twitching every so often as his eyes flickered behind milky lids. There were several bandages littering his arms and torso, and his right wrist was splinted and bound. It was disorienting to see such an impossible seeming man look so…mortal, and Frederick found himself torn between wishing he had never seen Jacob like this and being immensely grateful that Jacob trusted him enough to come to him when he was injured. A bottle of laudanum was sitting on the bedside table, although it appeared the table had been pushed just far enough away that Jacob couldn’t reach it. The chair that Miss Nightingale had mentioned was pushed up by the side of the bed, back to the window, and so Frederick walked around the bed to sink into the seat.

“Freddy?” Jacob croaked, no doubt having heard Frederick walk by him.

“Yes, it’s me,” Frederick sighed, his fingers tightening their grip on Jacob’s cap. Jacob’s eyes cracked open, glazed over from the drugs, and he smiled at him goofily.

“Glad you’re here,” he mumbled, reaching out with his left arm a bit clumsily. He knocked his hat from Frederick’s hands and grabbed Frederick’s hand tightly. Frederick sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t pull away, staring down at their hands in surprise. Jacob’s skin was a few shades darker than his own, but still pale, London was a bit too gloomy for anyone to acquire a proper tan, and his fingers were broad and calloused. Frederick’s hands were a bit thinner, and the callouses were in different spots, but they looked almost dainty clasped in Jacob’s hand. A hand Frederick knew to be stained with blood, but a hand that also filled Frederick with a sense of comfort that he didn’t really want to explain.

“I am too,” Frederick admitted, twisting his hand slightly in Jacob’s grip so that he could brush his thumb across Jacob’s knuckles. Jacob let out a sigh of contentment and stared at Frederick for a few moments.

“Didn’t think you were a poetry man,” he finally said, and Frederick blushed violently. He had still been a bit drunk when he had woken up, well before the sun had risen, and he only half-remembered selecting the sonnet he had left for Jacob to find.

“Neither did I,” Frederick admitted, looking away from the other man’s face. He was surprised by the tattoos on Jacob’s torso, but not off put by them either. The bird on his collarbone was definitely a Jacob choice, and the cross was simple and faded with age, no doubt gotten in a moment of teenaged rebellion. Jacob’s hand tightened around Freddy’s.

“It’s not…’snot legal you know,” Jacob murmured, obviously fighting off sleep now. Frederick’s face only heated further, but he forced himself to meet Jacob’s startlingly intense gaze. How was the man so aware after all he had been through? It must’ve been whatever training he had received. Frederick still knew next to nothing about this mysterious order of Assassins that the Frye twins belonged to, only that it was worldwide and family based.

“When has that ever stopped you before?” he found himself asking, his throat feeling unusually snug. Jacob’s lips curled up into a sloppy grin.

“You’re right…but it’s stopped you. You’re a bleedin’ rozzer for Christ’s sakes.”

Frederick glared at him, a bit miffed by the term ‘rozzer’, but the anger abated rather quickly.

“And yet I somehow find a way to forget the law and my duties to uphold it wherever you’re concerned, don’t I Mister Frye?” he asked. Jacob’s grin only grew and the hand on his tightened once more.

“Are you sayin’ you want to court me Freddy?” he slurred. Frederick rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair, but he didn’t withdraw his hand from Jacob’s.

“Go to sleep Jacob. You’re hurt _and_ you’re high. We aren’t having this discussion right now,” he grumbled, and surprisingly enough, Jacob complied, his breathing evening out until he was deep asleep, hand going lax in Frederick’s. Frederick found himself watching the slow rise and fall of Jacob’s well-toned chest until sleep called to him as well.

 

 

 

The next morning Jacob woke with a groan, pain lancing through his body perhaps more intensely than it had when he had fought Starrick. Then again, Starrick hadn’t pulled a gun on him. The Blighters, however, had no such reservations. Aside from the burning lines of stitches crossing his body in several places, the first thing Jacob registered was the hand in his own. He barely remembered the events of the night prior, but whatever had happened resulted in Freddy sleeping in the chair next to his bed clutching Jacob’s hand as if it were a lifeline. Jacob’s chest tightened fondly at the sight of Freddy sleeping; he looked far younger when he slept, the worry and stress that often creased his forehead and the corners of his eyes gone, leaving nothing but smooth skin in its wake.

“Freddy,” Jacob said, gently shaking the hand in his. “Freddy wake up.”

Freddy woke with a start, dark eyes darting about the room for a second before settling on Jacob. The sergeant smiled then, relief evident on his face.

“Glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?” he asked, and Jacob couldn’t help but return the smile. Their hands were still clasped, and Jacob found that he didn’t want to let go if he didn’t have to. He was definitely willing to push his luck.

“I think that the pain has gone from ‘hit by a train’ to ‘hit by a carriage’,” Jacob smirked, drawing a slight laugh from the other man.

“Good. You gave me a bit of a scare, I won’t lie. For a second I thought you were dead you know,” Abberline mumbled, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic Freddy. If I had been close to death do you really think I could’ve made it up to your office?” Jacob asked, letting a small smirk cross his lips. He relished in the glare that Abberline shot at him, knowing full well it meant he had been forgiven.

“Alright, perhaps that was a bit dramatic, but you did scare the hell out of me, dropping in through the window like that,” Abberline replied. “And you caused a bit of a stir as well, as per the usual with you.”

“How so?”

“One of the constables heard you hit the ground. I had to fool them all into thinking you had managed to slip right past them on your way to my office. I’m just glad that the commissioner wasn’t around; it would have been far harder to convince him that something clandestine wasn’t happening than it was the others,” the sergeant explained, and Jacob felt his chest tighten further in a rush of gratitude.

“Well it appears I owe you an apology then for all of the stress I must’ve caused. Perhaps a drink?” Jacob suggested, shooting Freddy a flirtatious grin. The look got the desired effect, drawing a lovely blush from Abberline’s cheeks, but Freddy didn’t back away for once. Instead, Abberline narrowed his eyes at him playfully while simultaneously dragging his thumb across Jacob’s knuckles.

“A drink? I get the hell scared out of me, have to lie to my co-workers, have to drag your half-conscious arse all the way out to the street, take a trip through half of bloody London, wake up dear Miss Nightingale well after respectable visiting hours, and get a crick in my neck from sleeping in this chair all night, and you think that a drink is an acceptable apology?” Freddy rambles, although the way his beard is twitching up around his mouth indicates that he’s trying his hardest not to smile. He’s apparently not a good liar when it comes to Jacob. Jacob sits up then, holding onto Freddy’s hand a bit more tightly now that he knows the other man won’t pull away. At least he hopes he won’t pull away. There’s something challenging burning in Freddy’s dark eyes, and Jacob was never one to back down from a challenge.

“And what, Mister Abberline, do you think would be an acceptable offering to make up for all that I have put you through?” Jacob nearly purred, upping the ante. Freddy’s face grew darker, but he didn’t make any motion to back down.

“It’s Sergeant Abberline to you, Mister Frye,” came the reply, and God, Jacob did not know that the other man’s voice could take on an edge like that. It made something in his stomach flip over and he felt himself tipping closer to Freddy.

“It’s Sir Frye to you, Sergeant Abberline,” Jacob retorted, his teeth flashing as his smirk grew to accommodate the tension thrumming in his chest. Freddy let out a soft, fond laugh and looked down at Jacob through dark lashes.

“How about a kiss then, hm?”

Jacob’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t been expecting something this forward from Abberline, not even after the poetic message from the other night, and it was his turn to blush violently as a grin painted Freddy’s face.

“Why, Sergeant Abberline, I do believe you are suggesting I break the law for you,” Jacob gasped playfully, although he did turn around to make sure the door to the room was still firmly closed. A flash into second sight revealed that Miss Nightingale was not even in the flat; she must have had an early shift at the hospital.

“As if I don’t break the law for you on a near daily basis Mister Frye,” Freddy smirked. Jacob’s eyes narrowed and he wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off of Freddy’s face, so he gripped Freddy’s wrist quickly and tugged him forward.

“Just remember you said that, not me,” Jacob purred, and he pressed his lips to Freddy’s clumsily.

 

 

Frederick’s heart nearly burst out of his chest when Jacob hauled him forward, and the moment their lips met he knew he would never be able to go back to their casual friendship. Jacob’s lips were chapped and clumsy; it was apparent that for all his bravado, Jacob didn’t have much experience. Frederick cupped the back of Jacob’s head with his free hand and gently pulled them apart, smiling as he did so. Jacob’s face was flushed, his eyes wide and darkening at the edges, and Frederick could hardly believe that he was the one to plaster such a dumbfounded expression onto the Assassin’s face.

“I suppose that’s sufficient enough, but I would like an apology for all of the other messes that you’ve dragged me into. Buckingham Palace for starters,” he murmured, smoothing a few strands of Jacob’s hair behind his ear. Jacob’s chest hitched and he smirked.

“You play a hard game Sergeant Abberline,” Jacob replied.

“I prefer it when you call me Freddy, Mister Frye.”

“Then I insist you call me Jacob.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again,” Frederick growled, tugging Jacob forward with the hand at the back of his head. Their teeth clacked together and Frederick laughed despite how hard his heart was pounding. Perhaps he wasn’t the most elegant of kissers either, but he made up for it by slowly moving his mouth against Jacob’s in silent apology for the bruising movement. Jacob sighed shakily and tugged on Frederick’s wrist until Frederick was kneeling on the edge of the bed with Jacob’s head held between his hands. Frederick took that as a sign that he could move beyond hesitant pecks and caught Jacob’s lips in a far more languid kiss, shuddering when he felt the Assassin’s hands close on his hips tightly. He swept his tongue across Jacob’s lips and they parted with a soft whine, stunning Frederick momentarily before he plunged into the kiss, putting the turbulent emotions that Jacob so often elicited into every brush of his tongue. Jacob was an admittedly fast learner, and by the time Frederick broke the kiss to press their foreheads together both men were breathless.

“How’s that for an apology?” Jacob asked, trying to be cocky despite the way his voice shook. Frederick chuckled and brushed their lips together one more time.

“We’re getting somewhere, but I unfortunately believe we should head back to Whitechapel. I don’t doubt that Evie will be worried about you,” Frederick replied, knowing full well that the other Assassin had probably torn apart half of London already looking for her brother. Jacob groaned and flopped back onto the bed, his face helplessly red.

“You really know how to kill a moment, don’t you Freddy?”

Frederick snorted and patted Jacob’s hip as he shifted off the bed to straighten out his clothes, rumpled from both sleeping in the chair and Jacob’s hands clenching into the cloth of his shirt when he had grabbed Frederick’s hips.

“If I didn’t kill the moment, it would have evolved into something that I don’t think either of us are quite ready for,” he admitted, blushing faintly as he stooped over to pick up his hat and Jacob’s cap from the floor.

“Ah,” Jacob said weakly, standing up to collect his shirt, waistcoat, and various belts from the shelves near the door. Frederick smiled at him fondly and slid his blazer on before grabbing his coat. This was definitely going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D yay finally something! I really love the headcanon that Jacob is all talk and no walk, whereas Evie is all walk and no talk (she didn't really hesitate to kiss Henry at the end of the game). So that's what you're getting. Freddy's a few years older than the Frye twins so I feel like he might've kissed someone but probably not enough people to have that much more experience than Jacob. Yay my awkward babies <3


	6. Hell Hath No Fury, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Evie have a fight, and all too quickly, Freddy must come to terms with the fact that the man who makes his heart race and his breath catch is also a criminal. A dangerous, wanted, relentless criminal. Freddy is no angel himself, but can he come to terms with the fact that he is courting the deadliest man in London?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for descriptions of violence, the foul mouthed Frye twin festival, and Freddy struggles.

Evie was on Jacob the second he entered the train, boarding, for once, from a station and not a track. 

"Where the  _hell_ have you been?" she screeched, smacking at his shoulders and shoving him backward into the car. Jacob shot Freddy a pleading look, but the other man only lingered in the doorway, looking a bit lost. Evie took Jacob's look as a sign that she should continue her abuse, and punched him solidly in the arm. Pain seared through his body like a poison and he let out an undignified yell as her fist tugged at the stitching through layers of cloth and bandages. 

"Watch it woman, you'll only make it worse!" he yelled, pushing her away with just enough force that she didn't surge forward to continue hitting him. 

"You should have come home immediately," Evie hissed, her hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, and Jacob rolled his eyes. 

"Sorry  _mum_ , but I was busy getting myself stitched up," Jacob replied. Freddy finally edged a bit further into the car.

"He was also a bit high on laudanum," he supplied, and Evie's head snapped around. Jacob wanted to laugh; apparently in her anger, she had failed to notice the sergeant standing there. 

"Sergeant Abberline," she said coolly, "how nice to see you again. What brings you here?" 

Jacob choked on a laugh as Freddy's face turned red, brighter than the detailing on Evie's jacket, and Freddy shoved his hands into his pockets unceremoniously. 

"Simply making sure that Jacob got back alright Miss Frye. He fainted in my office last night and so I took him to see Miss Nightingale," Freddy replied. Evie's brows furrowed, and Jacob groaned inwardly. She had certainly noticed the 'Jacob' as opposed to Freddy's usual formalities. She noticed it when she had done so with Henry the first time in her journal, and her knowledge and adherence to some forms of social propriety made it so that Jacob would  _not_ escape an interrogation once Freddy was off the train. However, he knew he wouldn't receive it now. Part of him hoped Freddy would linger until an adequate distraction showed up. 

"You  _fainted_?" Evie asked, her eyes glinting mischievously as she turned back towards Jacob. It was Jacob's turn to blush, and he rubbed the back of his neck. 

"I did not," he mumbled, finding sudden interest in the taxidermy heads on the wall. The cold, dead, marble eyes of the animals were actually rather disturbing and he made a note to get rid of them as soon as possible. Exotic animal heads could be worth some money if he could find the right buyer. Hell, he'd drop them in the Thames if need be. 

"He did. Collapsed right on the floor. Made such a racket that even the idiot constable in the office next door poked his head in," Freddy smirked. Jacob's jaw dropped. Traitor! He knew Freddy had a knack for teasing people, but if he was willing to gang up on Jacob with Evie, Jacob was in for a world of trouble. 

Evie snickered. "Oh, darling, delicate Jacob. Can hardly take him out these days, he's so prone to swooning."

"I was shot!" Jacob cried, throwing his arms up in exasperation and immediately regretting the decision as the stitches all over his body tugged in unison. "Four times, thank you very much. And I got knifed fighting off those Blighters at The Mint too." 

Evie's face softened at that and she gestured for Jacob to sit. "Anything bad? I'm glad Sergeant Abberline brought you to Miss Nightingale. She's one of the best in the city, and that's including the doctors," she said, trying to tug Jacob's jacket off to check his injuries. Jacob swatted her away. 

"I'm fine, you bloody mother hen. I'll be sore for a few days, but once the stitches come out I'll be good as new, promise," Jacob said. He did, however, hang his cap on one of the wall hooks as the train began to move. "Sergeant Abberline, it appears that you'll be stuck with us until we get to the next station unless you'd prefer to disembark from a moving train," he added, grinning almost wickedly at Freddy. Freddy scowled at him, although he didn't look intimidated by the notion of jumping from a moving train. 

"I'll leave the acrobatics to the two of you I think. I prefer not to risk breaking my neck unless it's absolutely necessary," he said. Jacob, and to Jacob's surprise, Evie, laughed at that. 

"Would you care for a drink Sergeant? Tea, perhaps? Or, if Jacob's proclivity for annoyance hasn't waned, something stronger?" Evie asked, moving past Jacob with her usual frightening silence. The woman was like a damned ghost now that she had mastered stealth. Jacob dreaded the day she learned some more interesting tactics; she could land someone in an asylum if she tried. 

"I assure you, he's no more bothersome than usual. Some tea would not be looked down on though," Freddy replied, settling his bowler hat in his lap and smiling at Evie warmly. 

"I am not annoying!" Jacob almost whined. Having the two of them interact was a nightmare, one that Jacob was already planning on avoiding as much as humanly possible from now on. 

"Of course you're not. Would you care to help me with the tea Jacob?" Evie cooed, leaning forward. "I'd like to have a word with you," she growled into his ear, and the expression that lingered on her face for the brief instant that it was there was terrifying enough that Jacob didn't hesitate to follow her. 

"I'll be right back," he said, shrugging at Freddy before following after his twin. 

 

 

 

"What in the  _hell_ were you thinking?" Evie hissed once they were safely within the confines of the dining car. After the events of the previous night, most of the Rooks were either on the streets maintaining security or off nursing their wounds, and so it was empty aside from the two of them. 

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked. 

Evie pinched the bridge of her nose as she slammed the kettle down onto the small cook-stove. It kept the car warm, and so it was already hot and the fire well stoked, so it was just a matter of the water boiling. "Well there are several things running through my head right now Jacob."

"Do tell then Evie," Jacob snapped, folding his arms across his chest with some difficulty, it appeared. Evie's concern over Jacob's health had long since abated; he was obviously well enough to give her attitude, and so he was well enough to deal with the consequences of his actions.

"For starters, why would you bring him onto the train? Once was enough, and he was just as drunk as you and I were the last time. I don't care if he saved your life; he's a police officer, it's the middle of the day, and now he'll easily be able to point out our train to others if he has to," Evie began. Jacob's jaw tightened and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. 

"I don't know if your darling Henry failed to mention this, but Sergeant Abberline is  _on our side_ ," he hissed. Evie's hands curled into fists, but she kept them pinned to her sides. God Jacob was frustrating. 

"Do you think he'll stay on our side if things get messy?" she questioned. 

"He snuck our weapons into Buckingham Palace Evie! If that doesn't show loyalty, I don't know what will!" Jacob cried. Evie let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. 

"He was protecting the Queen. He doesn't have a lot of power in the Met; nobody would believe him if he told them someone was planning to assassinate the Queen. They would laugh at him. Trust me, I've seen it, and so has Mister Green. Why do you think he's less inclined to show unwavering loyalty to the police than other officers are?" she asked. Jacob fell silent, and she almost felt bad when his expression morphed into something almost pained. 

"I trust him," Jacob muttered. 

"Oh, because that's all it takes. You trusted Maxwell Roth too."

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, because Jacob surged forward and shoved Evie into the counter. 

"Don't you  _ever_ use that against me, do you understand?" he snarled, and for a brief moment Evie understood what their targets must feel like when Jacob was bearing down on them, rage in his eyes. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, but the proximity was intimidating even to her. "That was a mistake, one that I will never make again, but if you think that that gives you reason not to trust my judgement then I sincerely think that you should reconsider your decision to work with me again." 

Something cold slithered into Evie's gut. The wounds from their last fight were still fresh despite the weeks that separated them from Starrick's death, and Jacob had no doubt suffered more greatly than she had during their self-inflicted isolation. She had at least found companionship in Mister Green; Jacob had been torn apart and thrown around by not only Roth, but Attaway as well. However, the cold was battling for dominance with the anger that was starting to simmer into a boil. 

"Oh really? Because, if I do recall, you made the same mistake previously with Miss Attaway," she sneered. Jacob recoiled as if he had been struck, and the cold immediately won out. The cracks that she could see in his bravado had just begun to heal, and in her anger she had foolishly broken them open, just as she had agitated the wound on his arm minutes ago. 

"You know what Evie?  _Fuck_ you," Jacob said, his voice wobbling dangerously. She could see him fighting the urge to wrap his arms around himself. Of the two of them, he had always been the more emotionally motivated one, and while she usually envied his ability to never question the validity and benefit of his emotions, she wasn't envious of him now. 

"Jacob, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Leave it Evie. Just...get out. Go talk to Sergeant Abberline, or, if you'd like, knock him unconscious and deposit him somewhere safe since you're so distrusting. I don't really care. Just go somewhere that I don't have to look at you for a little while, because I might strangle you if you don't," Jacob requested. His voice was so dead that Evie complied without saying anything. She suppressed the tears pricking at the backs of her eyes though. She wouldn't cry. She would  _not_ cry. Although her father was not infallible in his teachings, she did know that he had been right when he said that tears were a luxury that Assassins couldn't afford. 

The door to the car hardly even clicked as it shut behind her. 

 

 

Sergeant Abberline's hopeful expression made the ache worse though; she knew immediately that he had been hoping she was Jacob. He was such a simple man, honest in his intentions and incapable of hiding his thoughts thanks to his expressive face. It was no wonder his disguises seldom worked on her and Jacob. He was easier for her to read than a newspaper, and the story his face told was not one she cared to read after the little fiasco with Jacob. It would take a long time for her to make up for the wrongs she had just committed. She had broken an almost sacred bond of trust between them, throwing Jacob's failures in his face like that. This wasn't like his mission failures, which were fair game based on the fact that they were so incredibly important to the state of the nation. No, these were personal failures, failures that cut Jacob to the bone and wrung his heart dry, and she had gone and stabbed a muddy stick into a barely scabbed over wound. 

"Are you alright?" Sergeant Abberline asked; apparently Evie had slipped deeper into her thoughts than she had realised. 

"Fine," she lied, her voice softer than it usually was. She turned away from the Sergeant and distracted herself by tidying up some of the haphazard piles on Jacob's desk, letting her gloved fingers trail fondly over the little doodles he drew on the corners of some of the less important papers. They were still so young, she thought with a start, and the world was not kind to the young. It wasn't kind to anyone, but the older you got the less likely the world was to hurt you if only for the fact that you had more time to build up walls around yourself. "I may have upset Jacob though," she admitted, choosing to put a bit of trust into the Sergeant since she had failed so grievously to take care of Jacob on her own. 

"Oh?" 

"My brother, Sergeant Abberline, is a surprisingly kindhearted man despite our occupation. He feels deeply for almost everyone he meets, works himself to the ground in order to do what is right, and occasionally places his trust and affections in the wrong sorts of people," Evie murmured, pausing in confusion when she found one of her books hidden amongst the papers on the desk. "I won't lie to you, up until a few moments ago I thought that it was horribly foolish of Jacob to bring you aboard our train. Sometimes I fear that you know too much already, and for you to be here while sober is not an entirely thrilling prospect when you hold legal authority and more than enough evidence to land both Jacob and myself in jail. Jacob, obviously, was not too pleased with me when I expressed this feeling." 

"I can assure you that I would never do anything to put you or your brother into jeopardy Miss Frye. You have both proven yourselves to be dedicated to the good of the people," the sergeant replied. His tone was so earnest that Evie hung her head. 

"Yes, well, I am often blind to the emotions of others until I have wronged them greatly. Do you have any siblings, Sergeant Abberline?" she asked. 

"I'm afraid I don't." 

Evie sighed softly. "Siblings are a wonderful and complicated thing, Sergeant. And when your sibling is your twin, the complications only grow. To spend every moment of your life with someone means that you know them more intimately than perhaps you know yourself. Jacob and I are very good at reading each other, and even better at tearing each other apart. We have a...messy relationship Mister Abberline, one that was almost ended a few weeks ago, and I fear I have damaged it once again with my callousness. Sometimes I can be a bit arrogant. Jacob would probably call me a tit. And, well, I just threw some of Jacob's more personal failures in his face in an effort to show him that his trust in you might be misplaced." 

"I see." The sergeant's tone was suddenly a lot less friendly. Cordial, still, but distanced. "I am sorry if I have ever done anything for you to believe that you cannot trust me Miss Frye, but if it is my occupation that concerns you then I must say you are a bit of a hypocrite." 

Evie's jaw dropped and she turned towards the sergeant. His jaw was squared and his dark eyes were solemn. It was apparent that he cared for Jacob quite a bit, enough so to risk offending her for his sake. 

"I am a man of the law, or so I try to be. I made an oath to protect the people of this city, and I have arrested people for far less than what you and your brother both have done. I know you have murdered more people than I care to count. You start gang wars, you encourage and participate in illegal fighting rings and carriage races, you destroy property to protect your friends, you have broken into numerous private residences, you fund black market dealers, you have  _broken arrested criminals out of police custody,_ and you have killed my friends and coworkers in an effort to protect yourself and your gang when they just so happen to get in your way. So, Miss Frye, you are correct in assuming that I have more than enough to have you both arrested, tried, convicted, and  _hanged_ , but have I? No. Because I know that what you are doing, as clandestine and morally reprehensible as it may be, will save this city."

Evie's throat felt tight and the tears that she had so valiantly held back before finally gained some purchase, spilling onto her freckled cheeks. Shame crushed her lungs and flipped her stomach until she felt she might vomit, and yet the sergeant continued to speak. 

"You are Assassins. I am a member of the Metropolitan Police. We should not, under any circumstances, be working together, and yet here I am steering the police away from your activities day in and day out for the small price of a few wanted criminals," Abberline growled. Evie's hands began to shake and she looked away from him, hoping that Jacob would arrive with the tea so that she could go stew in her regret elsewhere. Having her own failures thrown in her face was rather deserved at this point though. 

"You're right," she murmured, wiping her face dry with her sleeve. "I owe you an apology Sergeant Abberline. You have done the both of us a great many services, and I know that without your help we wouldn't even be alive right now. I'm sorry." 

 

 

 

By the time Jacob had collected himself, made the tea, and walked back to the 'business car', the air was thick with tension. Evie's eyes were red rimmed and Freddy looked ready to throw himself out the window. Christ, maybe he should've mixed brandy in with the tea like he had considered doing in the first place. Instead, he put the tray down on his desk and poured out three cups, putting just the right amount of sugar into Evie's before passing it off, and then raising an eyebrow at Freddy. Freddy simply gestured for the cup, indicating that he took his black, and hid his dark expression behind the rim of the cup. Jacob splashed a tiny bit of milk into his and sipped at it, almost masochistically enjoying the way it burned the edges of his mouth. 

"So," he drawled, looking between his sister and his...Freddy. He really had no idea what to call Freddy other than Freddy at this point. "Who insulted whom?" 

Both of them stared at Jacob in shock, and he made an impatient, irritated sound before speaking again. 

"I can tell you're angry with each other. Evie was in a right nasty state when she left the car and she's obviously cried, look at her face. And Freddy, you look about ready to either throw yourself or Evie out of the train while it's going over the Thames."

Evie looked bewildered and Jacob's irritation only grew. 

"I'm not stupid Evie, even if you believe otherwise. So either tell me what the hell happened or go to your own damn car before I dump this on your fucking head," he snapped. Freddy choked on his tea and Evie's fingers clenched minutely on her cup. Jacob idly hoped that she would break it. He certainly wouldn't help her clean up the mess if she did. 

"I told Sergeant Abberline that I may have insulted you while we were in the other car, and I told him that I felt your trust in him was misplaced. He...rather strongly reminded me that I was wrong."

"May have insulted? No, you know what, I'm not even going to start on that right now. Evie, you're being a tit. Freddy, I apologise for my sister, she has the emotional sensitivity of a brick. Luckily for all of us, we're almost to the next station, so we can all escape the hell hole that this train has become and clear our heads. I have a feel that if we don't, the next headline the paperboys will be shouting about is 'Mysterious Train Discovered at Victoria Station, Two Occult Members and Metropolitan Police Sergeant Found Dead Inside. Secret Blood Feud or Mass Suicide? Read and find out!'" Jacob said. His tone was so scathing that Evie did crack her cup, and Freddy set his tea aside with a rather horrifying growl. 

"That sounds like an excellent idea Mister Frye," Freddy said. Jacob's stomach turned; he had never heard Freddy sound like that before. All of the warmth between them had apparently been extinguished. The train screeched as it came to a halt, and Freddy immediately threw the door open and stormed out, knocking his cup to the floor in his haste. Jacob hardly hesitated, slamming his cup down and running out after Freddy, leaving Evie standing there in stunned silence. 

 

 

 

Freddy dipped and wove through the crowd with surprising grace, hellbent on avoiding Jacob, but the Assassin was not going to let Freddy escape without letting him apologise again. It wasn't until they were well into the city that Jacob caught up, grabbing Freddy by the elbow. Freddy snarled and twisted in Jacob's grip, snapping his uninjured arm up and around until it was pinned to his back and then slamming Jacob face first against a wall in an alley. The only other occupant of the alley, a rather weary looking man who had been picking through the garbage, darted away without a word, keen on avoiding whatever fight was about to go down. Jacob grunted in surprise and tried to shake Freddy off, but the officer was strong and had a very good grip on him. Apparently Freddy had taken to the training offered through the Met a bit better than some of his fellow officers. 

"Freddy, please," Jacob grunted as his face scraped against the brick, the scruff of his beard rasping as Freddy pushed him further down into the alley. 

"No, you listen to me," Freddy hissed, his breath hot on Jacob's ear. Jacob stopped fighting and let Freddy move them until they were hidden by the shadows of the alley. "I'm used to being insulted, I know people don't like the police all that much, but I will not tolerate the sort of thing that you and your sister pulled in that train, do you understand? I am risking my  _arse_ protecting the two of you, and if you cannot behave better than a pair of children, I am ending this arrangement."

"Freddy, I'm not-" 

Freddy twisted Jacob's arm a little harder and Jacob had to gasp as the muscle in his arm protested. This actually hurt quite a bit; now he understood why the bounties usually whinged so much when he grabbed them like this. "You listen to me Jacob Frye, and you listen well. The next time I stop by, and I will be stopping by now that I know what your train looks like, I expect to see you and your sister acting like civilised adults. I don't care if she's nasty to you, and I don't care if you rile her up. You are both capable of hurting each other in very intricate and intimate ways, but if you act like a pair of  _dolts_ ," another twist, "everything you have worked for in this city will crumble at your fingertips. I'm only telling you once Jacob, and I'm only telling you because I honestly really like you...get. It. Together." 

Freddy's grip on Jacob's arm loosened, but Jacob stood there with his face pressed against the wall. He could hardly process this, this palpable rage that was radiating off of Freddy, and he was both horrified and aroused by the display. He knew that Freddy meant every word of it, there was no questioning the finality in his voice, and he shuddered at the thought of losing yet another person he cared about. 

"I will," Jacob whispered, feeling rather ashamed of himself. He had lost his cool in the train, and perhaps Evie deserved some of what he gave, but he was also old enough to know that he should let things roll off. Evie had been speaking out of a place of concern, even if her attempt at being caring was a bit ham-handed. "We're trying Freddy, we really are. It's just  _hard_. She knows how to play me like a fiddle and God if I don't want to strangle her sometimes...but you're right. We're being children and it's far too risky for us to behave like we've been. I'm sorry." 

When Jacob felt Freddy's head press against his shoulder, he twisted a bit. Freddy let go of his wrist and Jacob turned around so that he was hugging Freddy tightly. He glanced down the alley, and when he saw that nobody was looking in, tipped Freddy's head up with two fingers to the sergeant's chin. 

"Freddy...there is a lot you still don't know, and I hope that one day I will be able to tell you everything, but until then, will you trust me?" he asked. Freddy's eyes were dark, but they were softening. Jacob pressed their foreheads together. "Will you trust me?" he repeated. Freddy smiled a bit then, and the tension thrumming in Jacob's chest eased a bit. 

"God help me, but yes, I will," Freddy murmured, and they both glanced towards the mouth of the alley one more time before exchanging a brief kiss. "I must be insane, but I trust you Jacob," Freddy whispered against Jacob's lips as they parted. Jacob grinned at him, scruff and scars and light eyes all making him look so much younger than he was for a moment, and he was so beautiful that Freddy had to kiss him once more, all of the anger that had been rolling around in his gut extinguished by Jacob's hopeful expression. 

"You still have to talk things out with your sister though," Freddy said sternly. Jacob let his head fall back against the wall and he groaned. 

It was a start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I love Evie. I really do. But I feel like she really struggles to accept her emotions and the emotions of others. She's always quoting her father and his thoughts on how emotions make you weak, and while she definitely makes some progress at the end of the game I feel like she has a long way to go. Jacob, on the other hand, is definitely way too emotional. He's a bit reckless and super expressive, so I feel like it causes a lot of tension between them. Evie will be redeemed soon though, I promise. She's way too amazeballs for me to write her as the "bad guy" for more than a little bit.


	7. Hell Hath No Fury, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grisly murder leaves Frederick Abberline with questions that only one man can answer. Unfortunately for him, that man is Jacob Frye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. warning for makeout sessions. that's about it. yep. have fun adults.

Frederick's day had only gone downhill from when he and Jacob parted ways in the alley, Jacob zipping up to the roof to play vigilante, Frederick making the voyage back to his flat to change before his shift at the Met started. Frederick's flat was a small, dingy affair not too far from where Miss Nightingale lived, with soot stained windows and a couple that fought constantly in the flat below him. He stripped out of his crumpled clothes and shucked on the first pair of clean black trousers he could find. Shirt, waistcoat, jacket, and hat all followed, and he was stuffing his feet back into his shoes and darting out of the flat before he had even taken a moment to collect himself. 

He felt dangerous, alive in a way that he hadn't really expected, and he knew that it probably had something to do with the fact that he was a rather clandestine cop at this point. Part of Frederick wanted to feel guilty about the way his life had turned since the Frye twins had come to London, hell, even when Henry Green had first arrived and befriended him, but the part that remembered Jacob's exhilarated face when they had kissed in the alley effectively silenced all opposition to his interactions with the Assassins. 

 

 

Of course, that was until he got to the Met and was immediately turned around to help investigate a rather nasty murder in Lambeth. The place was a battlefield, dead Blighters laying on the grass, their vacant, glassy eyes frozen open in expressions of shock as their necks gaped, blood coagulating in the grass and dirt. The Blighters were all laid on their backs though, almost neatly. Whoever had killed them was brutal, efficient, and fast; there wasn't a shred of evidence aside from the strange arm bands that the couple who had been killed inside the yard of the ramshackle abode wore. They also had matching knife wounds, holes ripped into the sides of their necks so that their jugular was torn open instantly. The whole place reeked of iron and death, and some alley cats were getting adventurous despite the police presence, edging ever closer to the corpses that lie the furthest from the house. 

"Was it those damn Rooks again?" the Inspector murmured, gently lifting the woman's arm to examine the band there. 

"I don't think so," Frederick replied, standing up and stripping off his gloves. "This is too...precise to have been a gang fight." 

He knew exactly what it was. He knew the two people most likely to be responsible for it too. But he couldn't just go on and say it. He had to protect the Fryes and their Assassin counterparts. London was certainly depending on them. 

"So what then?" 

Frederick stared into the inquisitive, honeyed eyes of the Inspector and very calmly spoke. 

"I think this was just...murder. Plain and simple. Whoever this couple was, they got the wrong person angry. If you look at the positioning of the Blighters, they don't look like they were just cast aside. They were lain out with care. But these two?" he nodded at the spread eagled couple, "These two were just slaughtered and left where they were." 

The Inspector hummed and scratched the side of his silvered head with the end of his pencil. "We'll need to start an inquiry, find out who these two were and why someone would want them dead. I want you to start with the neighbours closest to the house, have the constables spread out around the block. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious." 

"Of course," Frederick said, pressing his closed fist gently to his lips. Inquiries. This was going to be  _so_ much fun. 

 

 

By the time he returned to the Met with the collected information, he was tired, irritated, and reeked of ale and opium smoke. He had unfortunately stumbled into one home where every single adult in the room was either drunk or high out of their minds, and one woman was very displeased by the appearance of a police officer in her sitting room, hence the ale clinging to his clothes and hair. 

"You look like you've had a rough time of it," the Inspector frowned when Frederick stumbled into his office. 

"Inquiries," Frederick grunted, tossing his notebook onto the Inspector's desk. "I'm going to go home now and bathe. I've been given a complimentary baptism by ale, and I think that I've inhaled so much opium smoke I might be high myself." 

The Inspector's eyebrows rose and he sucked in a slow breath, cocking his head in disbelief as he picked up the notebook gingerly. 

"Enjoy your evening Abberline. Hopefully tomorrow will be a relatively peaceful day...for all of us," he said, beginning to flip through Frederick's meticulously recorded notes and interviews. 

"I doubt it," Frederick muttered darkly, storming out of the Met to find a certain train. 

 

 

Jacob was at his desk when Frederick boarded the train, slamming the door shut so hard that the window rattled a bit. That shocked Jacob a bit, and Frederick smirked a little maliciously. Good, get him nervous. Frederick had had one of the worst days of his career by far, and it was all courtesy of Sir Jacob Frye. 

"Freddy, you're looking-"

"If you finish that sentence, I swear to God I'll arrest you," Frederick snapped, and Jacob looked sufficiently cowed as he set his pen down on the desk and stoppered the ink. 

"Rough day?" he asked. 

"I don't know  _Jacob_ , why don't you ask the nine corpses I was saddled with this afternoon?"

Jacob cleared his throat and rested his lips atop steepled hands. "Ah. Yes, that."

"Yes that? Jacob, do you have any," Frederick sucked in a harsh breath, "do you have any idea how incredibly foolish it was of you to make a display like that? The Inspector immediately suspected the Rooks, and I had to steer him completely off base. Spent the rest of my day doing bloody inquiries!" he yelled, and Jacob flinched a bit before standing. 

"Inquiries are bad I'm guessing?" he asked, taking a few steps towards Frederick. He approached like a man who would approach an injured animal, and Frederick bristled a bit. 

"When you get attacked by a drunk woman with a pitcher of ale and meander through not one, not two, but  _three_ opium dens by the docks in Lambeth to find people who 'might know something', yes, inquiries are bad," Frederick hissed, his body practically shaking as he controlled his urge to lash out and punch the wall. Or Jacob. Either one really. Jacob lifted Frederick's hat off of his head and hung it on the hook nearby. 

"Couldn't you have just...faked the inquiries? If you know that I did it, why..." Jacob's voice trailed off and he simply settled his hands on Frederick's shoulders, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through Frederick's jacket. 

"I know how to conduct a good investigation, so I know how to swing one into dead ends. When half the people on the block are opium addicts or factory workers that weren't even home, it's pretty easy to trip into an opium den, interview people who will have absolutely no idea what they even spoke to me about once they sober up, and hand over the results to the Inspector with a shrug and the excuse of drug addicts ruining your investigation," Frederick explained, although some of the venom was starting to seep out of his voice. He wanted to just tip forward and lean against Jacob's chest, but he was still rather angry with Jacob for being so careless. 

"I'm sorry that I made your day difficult. I would have, ah, cleaned up but...I had to get a message across," Jacob murmured. Frederick looked down at him sharply. 

"A message?"

Jacob nodded, rolling his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. "The couple that you found, the two in black, their names were Josephine and Francis Fletcher. They were pretending to care for the children in the area, the ones whose parents had died or who couldn't be cared for, but they...they were abducting children off the streets and inundating them with their  _horrible_ philosophies before shipping them out of the city to train as soldiers so they could be Blighters when they were old enough." 

Frederick's eyes shut for a long second. Children. Jacob's biggest weakness apparently. It was a rather commendable trait, and easily one of Frederick's favourite things about the rough-edged man. "So you made a display out of their deaths to warn other Blighters off taking children." 

"Yes." 

Frederick let his eyes crack open again and he was surprised by the look on Jacob's face. The other man's brows had dipped down, his lip twisted into an apologetic smile-frown, and his hands had slipped from Frederick's shoulders to his neck. Digging into his pocket, Frederick pulled out the two slightly blood stained arm bands that the duo had been wearing. 

"Just...explain to me one thing," he murmured, holding the arm bands out between them as best he could with the way Jacob was crowding him. Jacob was always crowding him, he had noticed. Jacob crowded everyone. Evie, Mister Green, hell, he probably would've crowded the Queen had he gotten the opportunity. Frederick wondered if he had been deprived of contact at some point in his life, or if he genuinely just needed to be close to people all the time. "What does this mean? It's not...it's not a Blighter symbol, but I've noticed it on some of the leaders in Blighter areas. And when I went to investigate some of your other murders, a lot of the victims were wearing something with this cross on it. Jewelry, arm bands...it's all connected by this." 

Jacob let out a slow sigh and took the arm bands from Frederick, stepping back and sinking into his chair once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his fingers across his face as he moved to cup his jaw. The lip chewing was starting up again as well, and Frederick wanted to reach out and pull Jacob's lip away from his teeth with his thumb. He was going to start tasting blood if he continued. 

"This is the symbol of the Templar Order," Jacob finally said, and Frederick's brows furrowed. The what? 

"What the hell is a Templar?" he asked. Jacob chuckled darkly and tilted his head to study Frederick's face. 

"The Templars are a group of individuals bound together by a common idea...that humanity must be controlled in order to be saved. They go to great lengths to keep humanity operating as their little puppets. Crawford Starrick, for example. He had the whole of London under his thumb, and with a flick of his wrist he could send another group of people crumbling into the abyss. But they don't  _care_ about the people, not ordinary people. Only themselves. They use ancient artifacts left behind by some...alien race to control minds and conquer death, and they'll stop at nothing to create their perfect little world," Jacob began, his voice little more than a bitter growl. "They think that they can end the world's problems by conquering it. Controlling everyone, crushing out individuality and enterprise." 

"That sounds rather awful," Frederick stated, scratching at the side of his face. How had nobody noticed these occult psychopaths? How had they gotten into such positions of authority? 

"It is. My father said that when they were The Knights Templar, their motto was 'Non nobis Domine, non nobis, sed Nomini Tuo da Gloriam'. Not to us God, not to us, but to Your Name Give Glory. They have this...god figure that they refer to as the Father of Understanding. 'May the Father of Understanding Guide Us' is their sort of blessing now. I heard the Fletchers making the children say it when I got there this afternoon. I might have lost my calm." 

"So these Templars are your enemies then? To your, ah, 'family'?" Frederick asked. Jacob snorted at that. 

"Something like that," he muttered, raking his hands through his hair before stuffing the arm bands into a drawer. "Remind me to burn those later." 

Frederick laughed. "Destroying evidence, are we?"

"That  _you_ stole," Jacob retorted, and the heaviness that had settled over the man seemed to vanish. Jacob rose to his feet and grabbed Frederick's hands, squeezing them lightly. Frederick looked down just to marvel at the sheer impossibility of this wild, dangerous, enigmatic man caring for him, but was distracted when he saw a rather disturbing scar that wrapped its way around his left ring finger. He dropped Jacob's right hand to run his fingertips over it, and Jacob tried to pull away. 

"Is this a brand?" Frederick whispered, half horrified. Jacob swallowed heavily and then nodded. 

"It's...it's a sign of our loyalty to the Brotherhood. Whenever a new Assassin is initiated, they receive this brand," he murmured, his fingers curling a bit. Looking more closely, Frederick could see that at the center of Jacob's finger was the same insignia that was stitched into his clothing. 

"That's...mildly horrifying," Frederick admitted with a nervous laugh. Jacob chuckled, just as stilted though, and shrugged. 

"They used to cut the finger off. It's not that bad. Hurts like hell for a few months, but that's about it." 

Frederick shook his head and lifted Jacob's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the mark. "And I thought my day was bad." 

Jacob laughed at that, a real laugh this time, and pulled Frederick in to place his hands on his hips. "Your day does sound rather atrocious though. Just so that we're clear here." 

"It was, but I don't think it can really top getting your finger cut off," Frederick said, and Jacob finally leaned in to kiss him. He sighed and melted into the kiss, letting the remainder of his anger go so that he could savour the moment. Jacob's hands hauled him in closer as the kiss deepened, and Frederick cupped Jacob's jaw in one hand, letting the other glide down his back to rest in the curve of his spine just above Jacob's hips. Teeth nipped at Frederick's lower lip and he let out an embarrassing, surprised little keen, shuddering as Jacob swept his tongue over the spot in a soft apology. Frederick made a note to ask Jacob about the whole teeth-lips thing later, letting Jacob push him up against the wall of the car. He growled as Jacob jammed his leg between Frederick's, fingers clenching on Jacob's jaw in warning. Jacob laughed quietly against Frederick's lips, a soft, delicious sensation that Frederick found himself wanting to experience on a daily basis. 

"You really do smell like opium and shit ale," Jacob murmured as he pulled back just a bit. Frederick's cheeks flushed and he scowled at the younger man. 

"I can leave," he said, gesturing towards the door of the car. London was flashing by them in a blur of black, spotted with orange where lanterns burned. 

"I'd rather you didn't," Jacob purred, almost sashaying his way across the tiny distance separating their bodies. Frederick smirked. 

"I didn't think so," he whispered as Jacob's lips caught his own. 

 

 

He lost himself in it for a while, the sensation of Jacob's mouth on his, tongue against his. For all of his apparent inexperience, Jacob was learning very quickly, and Frederick's head was starting to reel. Want coiled hot in his belly, but he shoved it away until Jacob started tugging his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers; Jacob's warm, calloused fingers splaying across his abdomen made Frederick's chest hitch and he bit down on Jacob's lip in revenge for earlier. Jacob let out a throaty moan and Frederick smirked to himself, teasing Jacob with the softest nibble he could manage before returning to a gentler kiss. Jacob's hand wrapped around to his back, nails biting gently into Frederick's skin, and Frederick grabbed Jacob by the shoulders of his waistcoat to slam him down onto the chaise lounge. Jacob looked half delirious as Frederick straddled his lap, but his hands immediately sought Frederick's skin again and Frederick grinned against Jacob's neck. The man was intoxicating, as uncontrollable as a storm and equally unpredictable. Frederick wanted to  _own_ him, and the thought was a bit shocking. He almost pulled away, but then Jacob dragged his nails lightly down his back again and he latched onto the skin where Jacob's neck met his shoulder, sucking and biting until Jacob was a writhing mess beneath him and the skin was purple and almost raw. 

"Freddy, please," Jacob gasped, and Frederick pulled back to stare at Jacob. He hadn't been aware that Jacob's voice could go so deep, take on such a desperate edge, and combining that with the flush staining Jacob's cheeks, spilling down his neck onto what little of his chest Frederick could see...Frederick took Jacob's face between his hands and stared into his eyes, even with Jacob's pupils blown as they were. 

"You are  _beautiful_ ," Frederick whispered, dipping down to press a slow and surprisingly chaste kiss to Jacob's lips. 

 

 

"Jacob?!" 

 

Both men froze and Jacob reached up to grab Frederick's wrists as Frederick started trembling. He couldn't turn his head to see who was standing in the car, although he knew who it was already. God, and he called Jacob careless. This wasn't a private place, other people lived on the train! Jacob, however, seemed a bit less terrified, his expression more mortified than scared. 

"Oh, lovely. This is going to be fun," Jacob muttered darkly, squeezing Frederick's hip reassuringly. 

"Oh, yes. Loads of fun. This is the most fun day of my life," Frederick muttered back before reluctantly sliding off of Jacob's lap to straighten out his clothes. 

"Miss Frye," he breathed, as authoritatively as he could while his hair was mussed, his lips swollen with kisses, his shirt untucked, trousers uncomfortably snug in a way he didn't need to think about at that moment, and generally reeking of drugs and alcohol. A glance down at Jacob revealed that the other Frye was just as disheveled, long strands of hair tangled from Frederick running his hands through it, the love bite on his neck glaringly bright against Jacob's pale skin and even paler shirt, face still flushed (although, at this point, it was probably also due to embarrassment)...Frederick had to look away, instead opting to look at the stunned expression on the other Frye's face. 

 

A shocked, angry, and mildly horrified Evie Frye was certainly one foolproof way of calming down after a kiss like that. 

 

Frederick drew a deep breath and waited for the onslaught. He only hoped that knives wouldn't be involved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have you ever had a sibling walk in on you in a compromising position like that? 10/10 would not recommend, and Jacob Frye approves of that message. 
> 
> Oh, look at that, I made a tumblr. nocriminal.tumblr.com is where you can find me. Feel free to send messages, comments, critiques, questions, drabble requests, prompts, whatever your heart desires. It's empty right now because I haven't posted anything...soooooooooooooo gimme a reason to spam your dash with my wonky Assassin's Creed ships and headcanons.


	8. Concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie is worried about the consequences that a falling out between Jacob and Freddy could cause. Jacob just wants to be something more than Evie Frye's twin brother. Freddy needs to get the hell off this train.

Evie had, over the course of her short yet very interesting life, come to expect a great many things whenever she came home. Twelve Assassins sitting around her father's dinner in some warped version of the Last Supper, a dead man leaned up against the back door to be taken outside and disposed of properly later, there was even a time when she had come home to find Jacob trying to teach himself how to juggle. With eggs. But never had she expected to stumble onto the train and find her brother spread out on a lounge with a  _police officer_ on top of him, writhing and moaning like a prostitute. 

It was a thoroughly uncomfortable and disturbing thing to come home to, especially when said police officer was their only ally in Scotland Yard, their only way of making sure their activities did not garner interest from the Metropolitan Police. What had Jacob done? 

"Freddy, please." The needy gasp made Evie recoil, and by the time Abberline had muttered something to Jacob and kissed him again, Evie had found her voice. 

"Jacob?!" she yelped, and both men froze instantly. She saw Frederick begin to shake and she felt a bit bad about it; obviously he would be terrified, he had no idea that Evie knew about Jacob's...inclinations, no idea that Evie wouldn't turn them in to the police. She sighed softly as the two shared a brief, quiet exchange, trying not to think about how gently Jacob was handling Abberline. This had to be nipped in the bud; if things collapsed, which they almost always did when it came to Jacob and his romances (the ones that Evie knew about anyway), they could lose a huge chunk of the system they had put into place.

"Miss Frye," Abberline breathed, standing and straightening out his clothes. Evie felt her cheeks colour and she nodded at him calmly. 

"Sergeant Abberline," she replied, and she hated how shaky her voice was. She knew that if she were to handle this situation with any delicacy at all, she would have to ease Abberline's fears before she handled Jacob. Who was still sitting on the chaise lounge, dazed and blushing, and dear lord that was the most vivid love bite Evie had ever seen in her life. 

"I...I wish I could say I had some sort of explanation, but I clearly don't," Abberline murmured, running a hand through his hair. Evie's lips curled up into a small smile despite the situation and she shook her head. 

"There's no need Sergeant Abberline. Jacob has already made his preferences known to me. I'm honestly surprised it took so long for me to stumble in on something like this, all things considered," Evie said, making Jacob scowl at her. Abberline stared at her, completely shocked, and then glanced over at Jacob.

“S-She knew?” he stammered. Evie rolled her eyes fondly and drummed her fingers against her thigh.

“Are you honestly so surprised?” Jacob grumbled, finally hauling himself to his feet. He tried in vain to cover the love bite with his collar, causing Evie to choke back a laugh, and then he placed a reassuring hand on Abberline’s shoulder.

The soft expression on his face should not have been as alarming as it was, and only solidified Evie’s convictions. This was _not_ good.

“I suppose not. And you aren’t…”

“Upset?” Evie asked. “No. I could care less if two people of the same sex are having sex, it doesn’t affect me unless I walk into it happening in what is essentially my sitting room.”

“This isn’t your sitting room, we share this car, and we weren’t having sex,” Jacob snapped, blushing violently. Evie snorted.

“Yes, well, whatever it was, you were certainly enthusiastic about it.”

Both men groaned and Abberline hid his face in his hands for a moment.

“But like I was saying. What Jacob does behind closed doors is none of my concern unless he manages to get himself arrested. I think it’s ludicrous that this even _is_ a crime, but I highly doubt you are going to arrest Jacob for snogging a man.”

“Certainly not,” Abberline replied, his voice muffled by his palms. Jacob squeezed his shoulder again and Abberline resurfaced, his face red enough to rival Jacob’s. The sergeant then reached up, squeezed Jacob’s hand, and crossed the car to pick his hat up.

“Where are you going?” Jacob asked, his blush receding ever so slightly. Abberline smiled at him wistfully and then gestured at his stained clothes. What had he been up to before he had arrived on the train? It was odd to see him so dishevelled, even if most of that was thanks to Jacob.

“I really do need to bathe before the stench of ale is permanently stuck to me,” Abberline chuckled, and both twins stared in amazement as he walked out of the car and leapt from the train, landing on the balls of his feet and rolling gracefully. The last thing Evie saw before the train passed him by completely was him putting his hat on. Jacob let out a low whistle.

“And he didn’t want to jump before. He’s actually pretty athletic from the looks of it,” Evie said, pleasantly surprised.

“Mhm.”

Evie sighed and reached out to squeeze Jacob’s hand in her own.

“I’m sorry that I was nasty to you the other day. The things I said were uncalled for and cruel. I let my gut reactions and my feelings get the better of me,” she murmured.

 

 

The apology didn’t shock Jacob, not really, but he was surprised by the amount of weight that seemingly lifted off of his shoulders when it came.

“I accept,” he said, clearing his throat. He was still rather embarrassed by the whole situation, and he found himself wishing desperately that he had his own place to live sometimes. “But…I can’t say that I will accept an apology for something like that again. It actually hurt quite a bit.”

Evie looked down at her feet for a moment and then nodded. Her eyes, which were light and blue and so very different from Jacob’s own, were cloudy and conflicted.

“What?” Jacob asked, ready to tear his hair out at this point. The turbulence of their relationship was beginning to wear them both down, he could tell, and that was a dangerous thing considering that they were being held together by the emotional equivalent of spider silk; the simplest of touches could destroy the entire thing if it struck the right thread.

“It’s difficult to explain,” Evie sighed, pushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

“I’m going to make you a one-time offer,” Jacob replied, leaning against the desk. “Explain whatever it is that is on your mind. If you do so calmly and respectfully, I will keep my temper in check and try to parse out whatever situation has formed in your overactive mind with you.”

Evie stared at him, lips parted slightly, and then her lips curled up into a small smile. Jacob grinned back at her; her small smiles often showed the most gratitude. They had the same smile pattern really. Big, goofy grins were often the result of excitement or happiness, small smiles a display of gratitude or sadness depending on the rest of the expression accompanying them, and those lopsided grins they had both mastered were a sure sign of mischief. Evie let out a slow sigh and then cleared her throat.

“I know that you’re probably going to get angry with me because of what I said the other day, but I’m worried about whatever it is that is going on between you and Sergeant Abberline,” she began, her fingers starting to drum against her thigh again. “While none of your past relationships have gone this far physically, you have a tendency to form emotional attachments very quickly. People also seem to become rather attached to you as well, but the trend has been that their attachment, once formed, has lasted far longer than yours has. I heard from half the girls in Crawley that you’d broken their hearts, and I know for a fact that that has led to us losing contacts in the past. Now, whatever it is that you have with Sergeant Abberline might be honest, true affection, but…is it really a good idea Jacob?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jacob asked, lips thinning. Evie definitely hit the nail on the head when she assumed he would get angry with her. He was not some serial heartbreaker! Most of his attempts with anyone, regardless of their gender, had been royal flops. Those that hadn’t typically didn’t work out because Jacob found his interests and personality traits conflicting with those of his partner. Most of his past ‘girlfriends’ hated Jacob’s flirtatious attitude, his need for physical contact from almost everyone, and his craving for adventure and excitement. When they tried to reign him in, the relationships inevitably crumbled.

“We are dependent on Sergeant Abberline right now. Yes, we may have beaten Starrick, but London is still in a very fragile state and his intervention with the police on our behalf is necessary if we are going to help rebuild the city. The police already know we’re in charge of the Rooks, but the Rooks are generally non-problematic unless they’re fighting the Blighters and so they leave us be with that, but if they caught wind of any of our other activities we would be in prison faster than you can say ‘handcuffs’. I worry that if you two part on less than amicable terms he might withdraw his protection. He seems to be a good, somewhat honest man with a strong sense of conviction and morals. But…affection can lead people to do and say terrible things when it is spurned. Hell, even when it isn’t spurned it can lead to that. I pushed Henry away from me for a decent while because of how I snapped at him after that failed mission. If Abberline gets hurt, it could be very bad for us and the rest of the Brotherhood,” Evie explained. She was running her fingertips along the hilt of her kukri, a terrible and mildly threatening nervous habit of hers that often made Jacob want to take a step back.

Her thoughts, however, were far more unsettling than her body language. She had a point. While Jacob didn’t think that he would ever end what was going on between him and Freddy, he also had no idea what it actually _was_ , and if he did or said something foolish, whether it be in a moment of anger or fear or just plain old naivety, if he caused a rift between the Assassins and Freddy, it was a recipe for disaster.

And he was fully aware of his proclivity for accidental destruction.

“You’re right,” he said. Evie’s brows shot into her hairline. Something sickly was rolling around in his chest and it felt like bile was rising up in his throat. “But…I don’t even know what is going on between Freddy and I right now. Maybe, if we were to have an honest conversation instead of yelling at each other and then snogging each other senseless like we have the past few days-“

“Details I do not need to know Jacob.”

“ _Then_ maybe we can prevent this potential disaster before it even has a chance to occur,” Jacob concluded, making a face at her. They were growing up rather quickly, but Jacob found reassurance in the fact that there would always be some sense of childishness between them; it was only confirmed when Evie stuck her tongue out at him.

“I do think you need to talk about it. But…whatever it is, I don’t know if it should continue in any capacity. Honestly. I don’t want to see you get hurt and neither of us want to put the Brotherhood at risk,” Evie murmured.

“You make a good point, but you’re also involved in a somewhat risky relationship. Henry is the only other Assassin in London right now, and while you two are disgustingly in love with one another, something going wrong between the two of you could also have detrimental effects on the Brotherhood,” Jacob countered, although his voice was calm. Evie frowned and cupped her jaw.

“Hm. I never really thought about it that way. But Henry is also an Assassin, and even if we were to end, which I hope we don’t, we would still stand by the Creed and do what was necessary for the Brotherhood. Sergeant Abberline isn’t an Assassin, nor do I think he will ever become one. He isn’t bound by our Creed, and so he could put our Brotherhood at risk without second thought.”

Jacob let out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. Evie was right, but she was also falling back on her tradition of pushing emotion away because it was risky to the Brotherhood. While a fallout between himself and Freddy would certainly hold more destructive potential, Jacob knew the kind of man that Freddy was and he trusted him.

“I can’t end whatever is between us before it’s even really began Evie,” he murmured, shuddering at the thought. In the few weeks they had begun to grow closer, Jacob had become frighteningly dependent on the man’s companionship. “But I will tread carefully. I…I need you to understand that I need this. Need him. You have Henry, and Aleck, and Charles, _and_ Charlie. I…I’m very much alone if we aren’t considering ourselves. Sure, Henry and I are cordial, but there has never really been much of a desire to form a close bond between us, and I work with all of our contacts as well, but they _like_ you Evie. And, to be honest, I can’t stand being alone anymore. We’re driving each other crazy, and eventually you will start a life very separate from my own. I just don’t want to be left by myself when that happens.”

“Jacob, I wouldn’t leave you alone. I never have,” Evie replied. Jacob shook his head.

“That’s not the point Evie. The point is that I need to have friendships outside of you and I, and I want a relationship one day. You have always been the popular one, with Father, with the Assassins in Crawley, and here in London. I’m just your brutish, overbearing brother who occasionally is helpful but more often causes more problems than he solves. Freddy is the first person to treat me as…well, as someone separate from you.”

The words stung in Jacob’s mouth, but they were true. He and Evie had been together since conception, and while he loved her dearly and never wanted to lose her, he also needed to have an identity outside of being “one of the Frye twins” or “Evie Frye’s brother” or “her twin Jacob”. They were a duo, yes, and hopefully they always would be, but they were also very unique and separate individuals. Freddy gave him that individuality, treated him with respect and saw that he was more than just Evie’s twin, and it was what Jacob so desperately needed.

Evie bit her lower lip and then nodded.

“I understand…but be careful Jacob. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and we must keep the Brotherhood safe.”

“I will,” Jacob said with a weak smile. “I don’t know if I could take much more heartbreak anyway.”

And with that, he threw on his coat, grabbed his cap, and exited the train. A crisp evening breeze tugged gently at his clothes and he paused to stare up at the moon, still visible despite the ever present cloud of smog that hung over London. He could hear carriages rolling around on the street below, smelled tobacco smoke and supper, and in a way he could feel the city thrumming with energy around him. He loved London, he truly did, but he also wanted to make his city his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the comments and kudos you've all been leaving; they mean the world to me :) 
> 
> Yay, Evie and Jacob are still hanging in there! And the awkward talk wasn't as awkward as Jacob feared. I just want everyone to live in a world of sunshine and rainbows, but then I go and make my characters angsty. Whoops. 
> 
> also, follow me on tumblr. nocriminal.tumblr.com :)))))


	9. Breathing Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob needs space to breathe. Frederick lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is fluffier than a sheep farm covered in cotton candy. sorry it took a while. jacob was digging his heels into the dirt and screaming NO like a spoiled child when I tried to write this chapter previously.

Jacob sat on the sofa and stared out the window, watching the dust motes swirl through the orange, pre-dusk light filtering in through dirtied panes. It was odd to see the city through a window and yet see it so still. Odd, but comforting. He rubbed his hands together and hauled himself up with a grin. Although it was dusty from disuse and the furniture was a little...hodgepodge, Jacob had finally,  _finally_ found himself a flat that was convenient and affordable. There was even a tap. A tap! He was nearly giddy with it. He had never been permitted his own space in Crawley. He had shared a room with Evie until they were thirteen, and then after that had been right across the hall from her and always under their father's supervision. After their father died they had been sucked into the rest of the Brotherhood in Crawley, and George was just as overbearing as the rest of them. 

When shoes clicked across the hardwood floor he turned and activated his blade. 

"Evie," he breathed, gently shifting his hand so that the blade slid back into its sheath with a  _snick_. "How...how did you find me?" 

Evie chuckled and took another step into the flat. "Well, let's see...there was money missing from the safe, the ledger on your desk said 'flat' next to the amount missing, and you left the paper on your desk with the advert circled. There wasn't any detective work required." 

Jacob rubbed at his face. Ah. He had been a bit transparent, hadn't he? But had he really wanted to keep his whereabouts a secret from Evie either? No, thinking about it, he didn't. 

“Well, this is uh. This is my flat,” he said, feeling a bit sheepish. Evie looked around and nodded, swinging the door shut with a soft kick before she joined Jacob by the window.

“It’s nice. I like it,” she smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “I know how much this means to you.”

“There’s a spare room,” Jacob blurted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “If uh. If you ever don’t want to stay on the train that is.”

Evie’s smile grew and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I like the train. The motion helps me sleep.”

Jacob hummed softly in acknowledgement and tried to put a name to the feeling in his stomach. It was like excitement and joy, confusion and anxiety, happiness and sadness all mixed into one giant bundle. This would be the first time they didn’t live together. Twenty-one years, and this was their first separation (aside from a mental separation, but they were fixing that as well).

“It’ll need some cleaning,” Jacob murmured, gesturing around vaguely. The landlord had been so pleased that someone was willing to take and could afford the long-empty flat that he had signed the lease to Jacob that very day. Jacob hadn’t gotten around to cleaning anything yet, but he would. Oddly enough, he liked cleanliness. Clutter was fine, but dust and dirt would drive him mad. Perhaps that was Evie rubbing off on him.

“Yes, and some curtains,” Evie replied, pointing out the barren curtain rods. “But I think, overall, this was a good choice. And there’s bookshelves.”

“You’re more likely to fill them up than I am. Not much time for reading these days,” Jacob smiled. Evie shrugged and glanced at the shelves that lined the back wall near the door.

“I’m sure we can fill them between the two of us. Now we don’t have to pick and choose what we keep,” she beamed.

“Until we fill those up as well,” Jacob laughed. He reached out and draped an arm over Evie’s shoulder, and the darker edge of whatever was lurking in his gut dissipated. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m glad you’re happy. I was going to suggest us adding on a car to the train, but I don’t think that’s what you wanted anyway. A train is far too temporary of a home for you, isn’t it?”

“Mm. I don’t think I would’ve wanted my own car. I love the train. It’s an amazing hideout and a wonderful place for us to conduct our business, but sometimes I need something more than the Brotherhood. I’m sure you of all people understand that,” he said. He shot her a look and she blushed faintly.

“Henry is an Assassin too you know,” she grumbled, trying to pull away from Jacob. He laughed and held her more tightly to his side.

“I know. But there’s a difference between being an Assassin and being, ah, _your_ Assassin.”

“Henry does not belong to me, nor I to him. We’re…”

“Partners?” Jacob suggested. Evie smiled a bit.

“Yes, partners would be a good word for it. Equal yet different. He…appreciates my candour and tenacity apparently.”

“Any man would be mad not too,” Jacob smiled. Evie shrugged and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Just promise me that we’ll still see each other,” she murmured.

“I promise,” Jacob replied.

“Every day?”

“Ugh, yes, every day.”

“What? I have to make sure you haven’t suffocated in your sleep or poisoned yourself with that sludge you call cooking.”

“Oi, I’m a great cook!”

The two of them broke down into laughter, deep, bellyaching laughter that left tears rolling down their cheeks. Even though they’d be a bit more distant physically, neither of them doubted that this would serve to strengthen their bond.

 

 

Jacob hummed softly to himself as he stood out on the small balcony outside his bedroom window. That had been the clincher for the flat, easy access to the roof, and since he was on the top floor of the building he didn’t need to worry about nosy tenants above him wondering why he was scaling the side of their building. It was barely a balcony, really, just a ledge with a rail that someone could hang a flowerbox on if they wanted to. Jacob probably wouldn’t, he was hopeless when it came to growing things, but he didn’t mind anyway because that meant that he could sit on the rail and let his feet dangle, which he had decided was the ultimate way to enjoy the perch.

He looked down at the street below, still cluttered with people making their way home from long days at the local factories or whatever else their jobs required. This section of Lambeth wasn’t the nicest, but it wasn’t the absolute slums either, and while Jacob had to be careful to avoid Blighter attention until they freed the borough, it was a good location. Apparently too good as Jacob caught sight of a very familiar face in the crowd below. He grinned widely and hopped up onto the rail, scrambling onto the roof so that he could follow Freddy from above. Jacob felt almost predatory as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, watching Freddy as he ducked around women’s skirts and artfully dodged a cluster of children running by with a football, but it was also intriguing. Freddy looked so different when he thought nobody was watching him, almost more deflated, and the thought was saddening. Jacob wanted to smooth the slump out of the man’s shoulders and he decided that he would do exactly that.

When Freddy ducked into a building a few blocks from Jacob’s own, Jacob waited to see which flat would fill with light as the sergeant entered it and lit the lamps. There was a flicker of a match being lit, and then a lamp blazed to life on the top end flat; apparently they had similar taste in idea rooms. Jacob streaked across the gap separating the building he was on and Freddy’s building with the rope launcher, relishing the wind burning at the corners of his eyes as he went, and then crept along the roof. Freddy, darling, wonderful, exhausted looking Freddy, opened the window in his sitting room and then padded out of sight.

“Perfect,” Jacob murmured, and then he was swinging into the flat through the window, landing silently and then following after Freddy. Apparently he hadn’t landed silently enough though, because the moment he rounded the corner there was a pistol in his face.

“Jesus, Freddy, it’s me!” Jacob gasped, holding his hands up. Freddy sucked in a sharp breath and dropped the muzzle of the gun, uncocking it and then running a now shaking hand through his hair.

“You scared the hell out of me Jacob,” Freddy breathed. “How did you…?”

“I uh, I rented a flat nearby. Honestly didn’t know where you lived, but I saw you walking and I thought I might…” Jacob’s voice faded off. He felt foolish then, and began twisting his hands together nervously as a blush flooded his face.

“You thought you’d follow me,” Freddy finished, but his tone was far from angry. In fact, he let out a fond chuckle and squeezed Jacob’s hands with the hand he wasn’t holding the pistol in. “It _has_ been a few days since I’ve seen you. I was afraid that the uh. Encounter with Evie had scared you off.”

Jacob’s blush deepened but he flipped his hand over to squeeze Freddy’s back.

“Nah. She tried, but…I told her she was insane.”

“What do you mean she tried?” Freddy’s tone was sharp and his eyes glinted dangerously. Damn.

“She worries sometimes. About me and my uh. Interests. In Crawley I developed a bit of a reputation for breaking hearts…don’t know why, I never encouraged any of them to…whatever, the point is that my relationships, or the endings of my relationships, have lost us important contacts in the past. Evie is also afraid that, since you’re not bound by our Creed, that you could make things very difficult for us if I were to ever hurt you,” Jacob rambled. “But I told her that you wouldn’t and that I wasn’t going to be an idiot about this.”

Freddy was silent for a long time, and Jacob almost felt awkward standing there in his hallway holding his hand. Then Freddy smiled, a small, half-broken smile that warmed and chilled Jacob in equal measure.

“I understand her concern. Someone that isn’t attached to your…family would have no reason to protect you should things grow rough between you and them. However, I care about you far more deeply than is probably wise, and even if that were to someday come to an end, which I don’t…I don’t know if it would, honestly, but if it were, I wouldn’t betray you either. The Assassins are doing a lot of good for this city, far more good than Starrick or anyone else has done, and I would be failing in my duties as a public servant if I were to endanger that. So Evie has no reason to be concerned,” Freddy explained. Jacob grinned and lifted the hand he had been holding to brush his lips across Freddy’s knuckles. Freddy made a soft sound of surprise but squeezed Jacob’s hand again in silent thanks.

“We should probably also discuss whatever is going on between us as well. We haven’t. And we should,” Jacob murmured.

“I know,” Freddy sighed, “but I want to go put this away before we have any more serious conversations. I don’t think these things should be discussed while I have a gun in my hand, hm?”

Jacob laughed and dropped Freddy’s hand.

“Go on then. I’ll be waiting.”

 

 

When Frederick emerged from his room after a brief twenty second panic in which he thought about how he could have lost Jacob before he ever had him, and how he had almost shot Jacob in the head, and about how Jacob had just climbed in through his window, Jacob was sprawled out in an armchair with his head in his hand, brows slightly furrowed and his top hat sitting on his knee. The chill of the flat had dissipated, thanks to Jacob apparently lighting his fireplace, and the combination of that and the expression on Jacob’s face warmed Frederick’s chest significantly. He walked over to Jacob and carded a hand through the man’s hair, surprised by how soft it was, and Jacob startled.

“I didn’t hear you come out,” he admitted. Frederick laughed and leaned against the side of the chair.

“Lost in your thoughts?” Frederick asked. Jacob hummed in acknowledgement and arched into Frederick’s hand like a touch starved cat, drawing a chuckle from the sergeant.

“Just trying to think about where this conversation would even begin,” Jacob murmured. Frederick sighed. This was going to be a complicated conversation, and one that was bound to be uncomfortable and rewarding in equal measure thanks to the clash between societal pressures and the emotions that Jacob so easily evoked in Frederick.

“Perhaps by stating the obvious then?” Frederick suggested, still scraping his fingers through Jacob’s hair. It was just as soothing to him as it appeared to be for Jacob. “Whatever we decide…we cannot be open about it. Not with ordinary people. We have to play our cards close to the chest. To tell someone that wasn’t trustworthy would be…well, it’d be a death sentence for us really.”

“Hm. Life in prison now,” Jacob growled, hand clenching into a fist where it rested on his knee. Frederick stroked behind his ear in a soothing gesture, although the thought still made him sick to his stomach.

“And do you really think a life in prison for this sort of thing would be long or pleasant? People like us…they don’t last very long in prison from what I’ve heard,” he sighed. Jacob reached out suddenly and wrapped an arm around Frederick’s waist, hauling him over the arm of the chair and into his lap. He buried his face in the crook of Frederick’s neck and let out a shaky sigh, arms holding Frederick tightly. Frederick turned as best he could in Jacob’s grip and wrapped an arm around him in return, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“I would kill anyone who even tried to turn us in. I’m not expecting to have an overly long life, and I would be amazed if I don’t end up in prison at some point, but you? I won’t ever let that happen.”

Jacob’s growl made Frederick shudder and if he clung to Jacob a little bit more tightly, neither man mentioned it.

“You won’t go to prison and you’d damn well better not die early. But, I won’t lie, I wouldn’t stop you from killing someone if they threatened us like that,” Frederick said. The admission shocked him, but he knew in his gut it was true. Jacob was not an innocent man, not by a long stretch, and Frederick had accepted his own moral dubiousness the moment he agreed to help Henry Green and the Assassins. Ordinarily he at least had the justification that it was for the greater good, but he would allow himself this moment of selfishness. He had lost enough in his life to warrant him being selfish from time to time. Jacob chuckled weakly against his neck and pressed a feather light kiss to the delicate skin behind his ear.

“Sergeant Abberline I am shocked at you. Condoning murder are we?”

“I’m off the clock,” Frederick replied, lips curling up in amusement. Jacob’s arms squeezed him, amusement and something deeper written in every line of the muscle that Frederick could feel beneath the heavy material of Jacob’s coat, and Frederick felt Jacob let out a shaky breath against his neck.

“I take it that we’re in agreement then, to continue…whatever this is?”

Frederick nodded, his nose still resting in Jacob’s hair.

“What is this, exactly?” Jacob asked, and he sounded so unsure and so young that Frederick’s head nearly spun.

“It’s certainly attraction. I would daresay that we care about each other a great deal as well. But lovers seems almost too-“

“Soft?” Jacob smirked. Frederick rolled his eyes.

“I suppose.”

“Partners?” Jacob suggested, recalling his conversation with Evie earlier that day. “Equal yet different.”

Frederick felt something warm flood his chest and he smiled into Jacob’s hair. “I like that,” he murmured. “Makes it sound like there’s more than just…physical attraction. We’re already engaged in a working partnership of sorts anyway.”

Jacob laughed and kissed the back of Frederick’s neck again, arms cinching around his waist. The gauntlet on his wrist dug into Frederick’s hip this time and he winced a bit; metal pressing into any part of his body was uncomfortable.

“Stay for dinner?” he asked. Jacob’s face lit up and he smiled.

“I’d like that.”

 

 

Dinner was simple and quiet, much like the comfortable meals that Jacob had shared with Evie on occasion, but with a different edge. Freddy had laughed when he made a half-hearted attempt to help with the cooking and immediately relegated him to peeling and preparing vegetables since “he was obviously good with a knife.”

Now they were just sitting on Frederick’s sofa, Jacob with his legs sprawled out in front of him and Frederick leaning against the arm of the sofa, both of them slowly sipping at their glasses of wine. The fire was warm, the curtains were drawn to block out the rest of the world, and Jacob felt like he was about to melt into the sofa, full and content, completely relaxed for the first time in ages. His coat had been long discarded, hanging on the rack beside Freddy’s, and his boots, hat, and gauntlet were sitting on the floor beside it. Jacob’s many, many years of training didn’t allow him to feel comfortable without some sort of weapon nearby, so his kukri was still strapped to his thigh, but he had no desire to think about it as he glanced over at Freddy and smiled.

“This is all rather domestic, isn’t it?” he teased, and Freddy blushed faintly before looking away.

“Probably, but when you live lives like ours is that such a bad thing?”

“No, as long as neither of us are expected to play housewife,” Jacob smirked. Freddy shifted and kicked at his calf gently.

“Neither of us are exactly wife material.”

“Oh, no, certainly not. Far too much facial hair for one.”

Both of them snickered and Jacob drained his glass before placing it on the table in front of them and flipping his body so his head was in Freddy’s lap and his feet were dangling over the arm of the couch.

“Mm, I’d say so,” Freddy grinned, looking down at him. Freddy’s fingers found his hair and Jacob nearly purred, relishing in the sensation of someone playing with his hair. He wouldn’t deny that it was a guilty pleasure of his, but it had been a very long time since someone had even wanted to touch his hair; he was certainly going to soak up this small affection while he could get it. Freddy smirked at him mischievously before sweeping his hand from the back of Jacob’s head to the front, shoving all of his hair into his face. Sputtering, Jacob blew his hair out of his eyes and then playfully nipped at Freddy’s thumb. Of course Freddy had to ruin a perfectly comfortable moment by being a twerp. Freddy glared at Jacob for the gentle bite and then dug his fingers into Jacob’s side. Jacob gasped and tried to squirm away, but Freddy looped an arm around his and held him there.

“Freddy no!” Jacob wailed, thrashing as he tried to dislodge himself from Freddy’s grip without hurting the other man. Freddy’s smirk only grew and he tickled Jacob even more, fingers darting up and down Jacob’s ribs. Jacob gave up on not roughing Freddy up once he was red-faced and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face from involuntary laughter that bordered on torture. Using the arm Freddy had left free, Jacob grabbed the shoulder of Freddy’s shirt and pulled, rolling them both off of the sofa and onto the floor with a bang, making sure that Freddy’s head didn’t hit as they fell.

 

 

In a moment, Frederick had gone from tickling Jacob to being pinned to the floor by the Assassin, and he grinned up at Jacob innocently.

“What?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. Jacob huffed out a breath, his face wonderfully flushed, and leaned forward, holding Frederick’s wrists to the ground as he loomed over him.

“I do not appreciate that behaviour Freddy,” Jacob growled, lips curling upward. Frederick swallowed roughly as he caught the predatory gleam in Jacob’s eye.

“I’m sorry,” Frederick said, eyes growing wide. He was certain Jacob was going to return the treatment, tickling him until he squealed and begged for mercy, especially since the younger man could hold Frederick down easily with one hand if he really wanted to.

Damn he should not have started a fight he couldn’t finish.

“Yes, I’m sure you will be,” Jacob breathed, and he shifted so that Frederick’s wrists were clasped in one hand, straddling Frederick so that he couldn’t kick or squirm away from him. Frederick closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable, but he gasped when that hand cupped the side of his head and he was caught in a biting kiss.

“This isn’t making me sorry,” Frederick mumbled against Jacob’s lips, and goodness did the wicked grin pressed to his lips make his head spin.

“I didn’t say yet,” Jacob purred, dragging his lips down Frederick’s jaw to suck at the soft spot behind his ear. Frederick shuddered, a breathless sound being punched from his chest, and bit down on his lower lip as Jacob’s mouth moved down to tease at the collar of his shirt. Frederick lifted his head up and saw that Jacob was looking at him through his lashes, eyes dark with intent. “But I’m sure I can think of a few ways to go about doing that.”

Frederick groaned and let his head thump back onto the floor. Jacob Frye would be the death of him yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eyebrow wiggle* I'm sure you all can guess what the next chapter might contain. 
> 
> HOWEVER. If there is any plot in the next chapter, it will be written at the author's note at the bottom of the page so that you do not have to read smut if you don't want to. I will also leave an AN at the top of the page telling you where the smut ends and plot begins if there's any plot at all. If not, then just skip chapter 10 if you don't want to read porn and continue on with the plot :)


	10. Sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Freddy share a meal, and then they share something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's porn. It's all porn. I'm sorry it took forever to write but here it is.

Jacob just wanted Freddy's shirt  _off_. The damn thing was getting in his way, and he just wanted his mouth on Freddy's skin, that soft junction between neck and shoulder that smelled like Freddy. Freddy squirmed a bit against his hold and then growled, surprising Jacob. The more surprising thing, however, was the way Freddy arched his back and then heaved, rolling them over. Jacob stared up at the sergeant in shock, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, and Freddy smirked at him.

“What, did you think I can’t handle myself?” Freddy asked, although he was a bit breathless. Jacob grinned up at him and shrugged, releasing Freddy’s wrists.

“I might’ve thought I had an advantage over you,” Jacob replied, and Freddy rolled his eyes.

“You do,” Freddy said, sitting down on the tops of Jacob’s thighs and resting his hands on Jacob’s abdomen. “But you’re easily distracted.”

Jacob laughed at that, running his hands down Freddy’s legs affectionately.

“You are rather distracting, aren’t you?” he asked, pinching Freddy’s thigh lightly. Freddy squirmed at that and swatted his hand away, scowling.

“Play nice Mister Frye,” Freddy teased.

“That’s Sir Frye to you.”

“Right, of course, my apologies _Sir_ Frye,” Freddy grumbled, leaning down to kiss Jacob before Jacob could think of a smart comeback. Jacob hummed happily into the kiss and let it remain sweet and gentle until Freddy nipped at his lower lip. Then his hands were attacking Freddy’s buttons, pulling them from the buttonholes in a desperate attempt to rid Freddy of his clothing, or at least his shirt. That elicited another growl from the sergeant, who only broke the kiss to toss his waistcoat onto the sofa once Jacob had completely unbuttoned it, followed quickly by his tie. Jacob grinned again, licking his libs absently as Freddy took a slow breath.

“Shy, are we?” Jacob asked, cocking a brow. Freddy glared and leaned down, looming over Jacob.

“You wish.”

 

 

Frederick might have been a little bit more shy about this had it not been for Jacob’s expression when he managed to flip them over. His lips parted in shock, the widening of his pupils in his already darkening eyes, and then that damned _grin_ that did things to Frederick’s stomach every time he saw it…it was impossible to feel shy with someone looking at him like that, hands smoothing over his thighs and then desperately clawing at his clothes. When he loomed over Jacob, the Assassin’s pupils nearly swallowed the hazel rings of his irises and Frederick nearly moaned at that. He bit back the sound though and licked a filthy line up Jacob’s neck, smirking when Jacob let out a small whine. Jacob’s hands rucked his shirt up, apparently he had given up on getting it off, and smoothed over Frederick’s abdomen before his nails dug into Frederick’s sides a bit. Frederick growled and bit down on the muscle straining at the side of Jacob’s neck, and the nails dug in deeper. Both men moaned in unison and Frederick sucked a dark mark into Jacob’s skin before pulling away.

“I’m not feeling particularly sorry you know,” Frederick teased as Jacob squirmed a bit under him. Hazy eyes narrowed and then Jacob was surging forward, not only managing to sit up, but stand up, hauling Frederick along with him so that Frederick was forced to wrap his legs around Jacob’s waist in order to avoid falling onto the floor. “Jesus,” Frederick breathed, grabbing Jacob’s face to smash their mouths together again. Jacob moaned into the kiss and held onto Frederick by the back of his thighs, stumbling towards Frederick’s bedroom as if they had done this a hundred times before.

Frederick hissed as his back hit the door and he scrambled for the doorknob, Jacob almost falling over when he got it open.

“Put me down a second, curtains,” Frederick gasped, and Jacob set him down so that he could sprint over to the windows and snap all the curtains closed. The room plunged into darkness, no longer illuminated by the streetlamps outside, and Jacob’s eyes gleamed like a cat’s as the Assassin’s slinked towards him. Frederick barely managed to light a lamp before Jacob’s hands were on him again, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him so that his back was pressed against Jacob’s chest. Frederick leaned into the touch, letting his head fall back onto Jacob’s shoulder, and Jacob wrapped one arm around his waist while the other moved to pluck open the remaining buttons of Frederick’s shirt.

“You…are fucking beautiful,” Jacob whispered, peppering hot, damp kisses down Frederick’s neck. The compliment was shocking and brought a blush to Frederick’s cheeks, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he only tipped his head to the side so that Jacob could continue laving affections down his neck. When the Assassin’s teeth clamped down on the junction between shoulder and neck, Frederick yelped and his knees went weak, making Jacob chuckle as he sucked what was bound to be an impressive love bite into Frederick’s skin.

“Jac-ah!” Frederick grunted as Jacob’s teeth dug in a bit more, almost painful at this point, and he wormed his way out from Jacob’s grip before seizing the Assassin by the shoulders of his waistcoat and shoving him down onto the bed. Jacob looked up at him with blown eyes and Frederick felt his whole body throb with want. With his almost dangerously long hair mussed, curving around his face instead of slicked back like it usually was, his lips spit slicked and swollen, and his cheeks painted red, the man was something out of Frederick’s darkest fantasies. His hands fisted nervously at his sides, but then the moment past and Frederick was surging forward, settling in Jacob’s lap in a position that was becoming commonplace and comfortable for him. He immediately licked his way into Jacob’s mouth, kissing him until the wine they had drank with dinner was completely replaced by his natural taste, and Frederick groaned when Jacob’s hips stuttered up of their own accord, pressing his erection into Frederick’s thigh.

 

 

When Freddy’s fingers started tearing at Jacob’s waistcoat buttons, Jacob had to let out a soft whine. Freddy’s chest was smooth and firm, surprisingly devoid of hair in comparison to his face, and with his shirt hanging open like that it was even more tempting. Freddy’s hands, however, were far more calloused, and they moved with certainty. Jacob lifted his arms when Freddy slid the waistcoat off his shoulders, not wanting his hands to be trapped in the fabric, and then grinned at his partner lecherously.

“Someone knows what they want, don’t they?” Jacob purred, and Freddy’s eyes snapped to his face, dark and full of want. Jacob wanted to lose himself in that look, but instead hooked his thumbs around Freddy’s braces and slid them down his arms.

“Of course I know what I want. I’ve only had months to think about it,” Freddy breathed, shoving Jacob’s braces off less smoothly but with just as much intent. Jacob swallowed heavily. Oh god, Freddy had been thinking about this, about _him,_ since they’d met. If that wasn’t arousing, Jacob didn’t know what would be.

“Then show me,” Jacob challenged, half because he wanted to see Freddy in complete control of a situation for once, and half because he wasn’t entirely sure where to go from here. He only knew that he wanted, wanted intensely, and that he would take almost anything Freddy would offer at this point. Freddy hummed happily at that and started nipping his way up Jacob’s neck again as his fingers plucked open Jacob’s shirt.

“I fully intend on that Jacob,” Freddy murmured, breath ghosting over Jacob’s ear and eliciting a shudder from the man. “But I think I need you undressed if I’m going to do that.”

Jacob groaned softly and rocked his hips up into Freddy’s again, barely thinking at this point. Freddy’s fingers dug into his shoulders briefly and then shoved the shirt away, the sergeant going right for his tattoo the second the shirt was on the floor. Jacob swallowed roughly as Freddy’s tongue traced the lines of the raven on his chest; he had never thought of the tattoo as a point of eroticism, but Freddy was apparently intent on making every part of Jacob’s body feel as if it were directly connected to his dick at this point. Fingers scraped down his chest, tweaking at nipples and sucking a whine out of Jacob’s lungs before they slid down to scratch lightly on his abdominals.

“Freddy,” Jacob growled, reaching out to finally shove Freddy’s shirt off all the way. The sergeant let him, and once the material was on the floor Jacob shifted so that he was actually all the way on the bed, laying back in the pillows with Freddy on top of him. Freddy grinned a bit breathlessly at this and rolled their hips together, dragging a moan from both of them. Jacob’s whole body felt hot, and his stomach was tense with desire. He raked his nails down Freddy’s back, remembering how Freddy had reacted the last time he had done it. The effect was much the same, Freddy surging forward to claim his lips with animalistic need, dragging Jacob’s lower lip through his teeth as he pulled away. Jacob thrashed a bit at that, loving the sensation of teeth against his skin in a way he couldn’t explain, and Freddy laughed as he licked away the sting.

“Patience is a virtue dear,” Freddy murmured, slowly slithering down Jacob’s chest.

“Do I look like the virtuous type Frederick?” Jacob snapped, blushing when he realised how desperate that made him sound. Freddy let out a small chuckle and then his lips closed around Jacob’s left nipple, causing Jacob’s back to arch up off the bed. “Freddy,” he gasped, although it sounded more like “fredaaaah” to him. Freddy moaned softly and teased the beading flesh between his teeth, his hand tweaking at Jacob’s other nipple until he pulled away to start kissing his way down Jacob’s stomach. Jacob snickered a bit, Freddy’s beard tickling the sensitive skin between his chest and hips, and Freddy had to pause to press a very innocent kiss to his stomach before scraping his teeth along Jacob’s abs.

“I could wash my clothes on your stomach, I swear,” Freddy nearly growled, and Jacob felt his face heat up again.

“B-benefits of an a-active life,” he wheezed. Freddy was mouthing his way across Jacob’s waistband, sucking dark marks into his hipbones as his fingers found their way into Jacob’s trousers. He paused, however, before he pulled Jacob’s trousers down.

“May I?” he asked. Jacob swallowed roughly and nodded, breath hitching.

“Yes, god yes, please,” Jacob gasped, and then Freddy was yanking his trousers down quickly, letting them fall to the floor with a thud. He kissed his way up Jacob’s legs, nibbling at the sensitive backs of his knees and then pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the insides of Jacob’s thighs. Jacob couldn’t help the small whines he was letting out at this point; Freddy’s mouth was so, _so_ close to his cock, and he was suddenly consumed with the idea of those lips wrapped around it. His fingers fisted into the sheets and he tried to keep his hips from snapping up as Freddy’s lips grazed his balls, tongue flicking out teasingly.

“Jesus Christ,” Jacob breathed, his eyes squeezing shut. “Freddy, have you d-done this b-before?”

Freddy paused and nuzzled Jacob’s hipbone with his nose.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced it,” he murmured. Jacob let out a shaky groan and tried to urge his now freakishly tense body to relax. God did he want Freddy. It was surprising that Freddy had had experiences of a sexual nature, but not overly so. Freddy had appeared to know what he was doing before, and he wasn’t hesitant in the way Jacob was. It made Jacob’s head spin. Freddy had been with someone else before, whether man or woman Jacob had no clue, but the fact that he had experience and wanted someone as new to this as Jacob was dizzying and flattering and arousing all at once.

Jacob’s thoughts fizzled out when Freddy’s tongue was dragged along the underside of his cock, and it was by sheer willpower alone that Jacob didn’t come the second he realised what was happening.

 

 

The moan that Jacob let out when Frederick’s lips closed around the head of his flushed cock made Frederick grind his hips into the mattress. Jacob was incredible like this, pliant and needy in a way that the sergeant had never thought he’d see the Assassin be, and Frederick wanted to lock this moment away in his mind forever. He hollowed his cheeks and, making sure his lips covered his teeth, bobbed his head down until he gagged. Jacob whined again as Frederick pulled back, and Frederick groaned when he tasted the first salty beads of pre-come on his tongue. The weight and warmth of Jacob in his mouth was intoxicating, and he bobbed his head again, stopping just before it became too much this time. His hand came up to wrap around what he couldn’t fit in his mouth, and soon Frederick had set a steady rhythm. It wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable experience, bobbing his head along Jacob’s cock; his neck was bound to start aching eventually, and his jaw would cramp up if he went for too long, but that was outweighed by the rush he felt having Jacob squirming beneath him like this and letting out choked moans and whimpers with each drag of his lips against heated flesh. Frederick’s tongue flicked along Jacob’s slit and more pre-come oozed out, followed by a gasp from the Assassin, and Frederick had to look up. Jacob’s chest was heaving, stained red, and his eyes were screwed shut in ecstasy. His mouth was gaping open and the flush trailing from his cheeks down made every love bite Frederick had mercilessly sucked into Jacob’s fair skin stand out like a brand. Suddenly, Jacob’s eyes opened and met Frederick’s, and the Assassin’s back arched a bit.

“I’m gonna-“ Jacob started, and then Frederick’s mouth was flooded with spurts of come. Frederick swallowed what he could and then pulled back, gasping. For a second, Jacob just laid there sucking in harsh breaths, but he went from limp to surging forward in a heartbeat, licking his way into Frederick’s mouth as if he could find the answers to all of life’s questions within it. Both men groaned in unison once again, and Jacob’s hands slipped into the waistband of Frederick’s trousers to grab his arse. When they broke apart, Jacob looked at Frederick with something burning dark in his hazel eyes.

“Freddy?”

“Hm?”

“Will you fuck me?”

Frederick’s eyes widened and his heart started to pound. He hadn’t really thought about it, not really, but now that the opportunity had been presented he knew he had never wanted something so badly in his entire life.

“God yes,” he breathed, and he shoved Jacob back into the pillows once more. “Give me a second.”

 

 

Jacob was admittedly grateful for the few moments of sanity as Frederick darted from the room. He could hardly breathe he was so aroused, and that was even after the mind blowing orgasm he had just experienced. He wondered if that was simply because it was the first time he had ever experienced one at someone else’s hands, or if it was because it was Freddy, but either way it had been incredible. Smiling giddily, Jacob buried his face into Freddy’s pillows and took a few steadying breaths. The whole room smelled like Freddy, and now Jacob’s scent was starting to mix with it as his sweat soaked into the sheets. Exhaustion crept into his veins as he rolled onto his stomach, and he was almost asleep when he felt a warm hand settle at the small of his back.

“Jacob?” Freddy asked, and something clunked on the bedside table before the sergeant’s weight settled on the bed beside him. “You alright?”

Jacob hummed happily and shifted into Freddy’s touch. “Great. Amazing actually,” he murmured, turning his head so he could peer at Freddy blearily. Freddy’s expression was both fond and hungry, and his lips were red and puffy. The expression was all it took to shake the sleepiness from Jacob’s body and he arched a little more licentiously into Freddy’s touch. “But I think you had a plan that would make me feel even better, yeah?”

Freddy smirked at that and leaned forward, kissing him slowly. “Mm, something like that,” he murmured when they broke apart. Jacob grinned at him and then realised that Freddy had gone to the kitchen to get a bottle of olive oil.

Huh. Ingenious.

“I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” Jacob commented, tugging on the waistband of Freddy’s trousers, and Freddy smiled.

“Then take them off,” he said. Jacob grinned and pushed Freddy back into the pillows, kissing and licking his way down Freddy’s chest the way Freddy had earlier. Freddy sighed and squirmed into the touches, shuddering happily when Jacob finally pulled his trousers off. Jacob had to pause then, swallowing thickly. Freddy was a bit larger than he had been expecting, although he hadn’t been sure what to expect anyway since he had really only seen his own dick before this. Freddy blushed when he realised what Jacob was staring at, and all of a sudden Jacob’s anxiety eased away. Although this was new, highly criminal, and was bound to be a bit awkward, it was still _Freddy_.

“C’mere,” Freddy murmured, and Jacob clambered into his lap to kiss him again.

 

 

Frederick kissed Jacob until the man was panting against his lips again, keening whenever Frederick’s mouth trailed from his lips to his jaw or neck. By the time Frederick reached for the bottle on the bedside table, Jacob was half-hard again and attacking Frederick’s neck with vigour. Frederick managed to wrestle the cork from the bottle with one hand, and Jacob stilled at the sound.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Frederick murmured, seeing the hesitation on Jacob’s face. Jacob shook his head.

“No, I want this,” he said firmly. Frederick smiled a bit at that and kissed him softly. “Just go slow.”

“I will, I promise,” Frederick murmured, pouring some oil onto his hand. He made sure that his fingers were slippery and then dragged his finger along Jacob’s crack, pulling him into a filthy kiss as he did so. Jacob moaned when Frederick’s finger brushed against his entrance and Frederick bit down on his lip as he slid his finger in a bit. The moan took on a higher tone and Jacob shuddered, pulling back a tad.

“Fuck,” Jacob panted, letting his forehead fall onto Frederick’s shoulder. Frederick kissed the side of Jacob’s head and smoothed his other hand down Jacob’s back as he pushed in further.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he requested, but Jacob only moaned again as his finger sank all the way in to the knuckle. Frederick gave him a second to adjust and then pulled out, thrusting in a bit more quickly.

“God Freddy.”

Frederick picked up the speed as he felt Jacob relax, and then added a second finger. Jacob tensed then, jaw clenching, and Frederick stilled.

“Keep going,” Jacob grunted, rocking back against Frederick’s finger after a second. Frederick nodded, kissed the side of Jacob’s neck a bit messily, and then started thrusting his fingers in and out once more, scissoring them lightly. At one point he crooked his fingers, brushing against a soft spot he hadn’t been expecting, and Jacob almost screamed in pleasure, convulsing against and around Frederick.

“Shh, not so loud,” Frederick chastised lightly, adding a third finger and then promptly brushing that spot again. Jacob sobbed in pleasure and ground his hips down against Frederick’s hand. They spent a few minutes like that, Frederick thrusting his fingers into Jacob and the Assassin groaning filthily, but then Jacob bit down on the side of Frederick’s neck.

“Get on with it,” Jacob growled. Frederick pulled his fingers out and Jacob moaned at the loss, but he was quick to pass Frederick the oil with shaking hands. Frederick slicked himself up and then stared at Jacob for a long moment.

“You sure?” he asked. Jacob nodded, looping his arms around Frederick’s neck and pressing their foreheads together.

“Please,” Jacob whispered, and with that Frederick lined himself with Jacob’s entrance and pushed in a bit. Jacob’s breathing quickened and he tensed again, so Frederick stroked his back and stilled his hips.

“Go as slow as you need,” Frederick murmured. Jacob nodded, eyes screwed shut, but he eventually started to sink down on Frederick’s cock, eyes fluttering open and then falling shut again as he did. Frederick let out a guttural groan and when he bottomed out he had to grab Jacob’s hips.

“I…fuck, I need a second,” Frederick gasped, trying to collect himself. The sensation of being buried in Jacob like this was intense, and he was amazed he hadn’t come halfway through. Jacob nodded and then let out a shaky moan.

“We need to shift,” Jacob finally said, fingers tangling in Frederick’s hair. “T-too intense.”

Frederick kissed Jacob’s face, sloppy kisses all over his cheeks, and then tapped his hip. Jacob lifted himself slowly, wincing a bit, and then rolled onto his back.

“You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Jacob murmured, spreading his legs wantonly. “Just not that position. Now get over here.”

Frederick laughed. Jacob’s personality never wavered; the man knew what he wanted and would probably stop at almost nothing to get it. Ever the enabler, Frederick gently draped Jacob’s legs around his waist and then pressed back in again slowly. Jacob moaned and his eyes fell shut, but there was no pain or discomfort written in his expression. Frederick once more had to take a moment to pause, shaking slightly as he adjusted to the tight heat of Jacob’s body, and then Jacob’s legs squeezed him, pushing him forward. Frederick pulled his hips back until he was almost completely pulled out, and then snapped them forward, punching a groan from the Assassin. He set a slow, steady rhythm, his head tipping forward until he was panting against Jacob’s neck, and Jacob’s hand found its way into Frederick’s hair again, stroking it almost soothingly.

“Look at me?” Jacob requested. His voice was soft yet deep with arousal, and Frederick immediately lifted his head enough to meet Jacob’s eyes. Jacob was completely gone, pupils nearly swallowing the brown-green irises Frederick had become so familiar with, and he was gasping softly with each pump of Frederick’s hips.

“Oh god Jacob,” Frederick whispered, burying his fingers in Jacob’s hair. Jacob gave him a lopsided grin and Frederick thrust in a bit harder, hitting Jacob’s sweet spot. The grin dissolved into a moan and Jacob used his ankles to draw Frederick in again. Frederick could feel Jacob’s cock leaking between their bellies and his own balls were tightening.

“Frederick please,” Jacob groaned, and Frederick dipped down to give him a biting kiss, sucking on his tongue as he started to thrust against that same spot over and over again. Jacob’s fingers convulsed in his hair and when Frederick pulled away Jacob keened. “Freddy, I…I…oh, fuck.”

Come painted Frederick’s stomach and when Jacob’s body tightened around him Frederick came with a shout, burying himself in Jacob one last time before nearly collapsing on top of the Assassin, not pulling out until it was almost uncomfortable. When he did, Jacob wrapped his arms around Frederick and kissed him slowly, far more sweetly than any other kiss they had ever exchanged. Frederick melted into it and hummed happily.

“That was…pretty incredible,” he murmured, kissing the hinge of Jacob’s jaw. Jacob laughed and rolled them onto their sides, his hand gliding up and down Frederick’s ribs.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Jacob grinned, eyes hazy and starting to droop. Frederick pecked his nose and then reluctantly stood. Jacob looked panicked for a moment, but Frederick only pushed him back down onto the bed and smiled.

“I’m going to get a cloth to clean up with. I don’t think we want to sleep like this,” he explained. Jacob relaxed and shot him a lazy grin.

 

 

After they were cleaned up, Jacob moved to get his clothes.

“Where are you going?” Freddy asked, voice raspy with exhaustion as he caught Jacob’s wrist in hand.

“I…”

“You can stay the night if you want. I…I would like that very much actually,” Freddy said. Jacob’s heart seemed to leap into his throat and he couldn’t bite back a smile.

“I’d like that too,” Jacob murmured, and he immediately crawled back into the bed, settling under the sheets with Freddy, who promptly wrapped his arms around Jacob and let the Assassin rest his head on his chest.

“Goodnight Jacob,” Freddy mumbled, blowing out the lamp. Jacob pressed a kiss to Freddy’s chest.

“Goodnight Freddy.”

Jacob fell asleep easily, lulled into his dreams by the steady rise and fall of Freddy’s chest and the thumping of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay adorably awkward first time smut. Because, let's be real, I've never heard of anyone having first time sex with someone (whether they were 'virgins' or not) and not have had an awkward moment or two. You're learning someone else's body, it's gonna be interesting. But yay they done the do.


	11. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm so sorry Jacob."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been over six months since I've last updated this fic, and I'm so sorry about that. School, my mental health, and family obligations have been obliterating any semblance of free time I'd had for the past six months, but now everything has finally, FINALLY settled. Thank you all for the comments and such that you left during my unfortunate and unannounced hiatus. I apologize if my radio silence disheartened or worried any of you; I am okay, and I hope that you all are too. I'm really thrilled to present Chapter 11, and yes, this was the plan from the beginning so I apologize in advance. 
> 
> All aboard the feels train.

“Hey Freddy, have you seen my grey waistcoat?” Jacob called out upon hearing the door of the flat open. It hadn’t taken them long to become, in Jacob’s words, ‘disgustingly domestic’, and the men seemed to have split their clothing and personal belongings between the flats that they rented. When nothing but silence greeted Jacob, he frowned and slowly put on his hidden blades. Something was off; Freddy wasn’t normally this quiet when he got home. As soon as a throwing knife found its way into Jacob’s hand, he crept out of the bedroom. The hallway was long enough that he didn’t see whoever had walked in until he took a few steps, and the second he saw red tweed the knife was sailing into a shoulder, pinning the Blighter to the wall. She let out a screech and let her head slam back against the wall, blood beginning to seep into the fabric of her jacket and make it darker around the knife.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jacob growled, stalking forward. The woman’s eyes widened and she twitched, the knife a painful reminder as to why she shouldn’t move.

“I-I-I’m here to deliver a message to you Mister Frye,” she stammered, face paling with both fear and blood loss. She held up an envelope using her uninjured arm. Jacob tore the envelope from her fingers quickly and ripped it open, barely paying attention to the Templar cross pressed into the sealing ink.

_Mister Frye,_

_You have cost our Order greatly these past few months. We have decided that some recompense is due. It has come to our attention that you have developed a close friendship with Sergeant Abberline, and it is the value of that friendship that will be put to the test. In exchange for Abberline’s life, we demand that you return the recently seized Lambeth to us, as well as a sum of a thousand pounds to cover the damages to equipment, Blighters, and properties within the borough. You have forty-eight hours to comply._

_If you alert Scotland Yard, increase Rook presence in any Blighter controlled borough (or Lambeth), or fail to arrive at the address enclosed with the proper payment and an agreement to remove the Rooks from Lambeth, we will kill Frederick Abberline._

_I do hope that we have reached an understanding._

_Regards,_

_Lilla Graves_

Jacob flipped over the letter wordlessly and found the address there. He was almost mechanically calm as he folded the letter and then tucked it into the pocket of his trousers, but that calm vanished the second the letter was safely stored. He lurched forward and grabbed the Blighter by her neck, ripping her away from the wall without even bothering to pull the knife from her shoulder. It clattered to the ground, leaving a few blood spatters in its wake, and she whimpered and gasped as she desperately clawed at the fingers wrapped around her throat.

“If this was anyone else’s flat, I would kill you right this second and throw you out of the window. Luckily for you, I’m standing in the flat of a Scotland Yard officer and can’t make it a murder scene. So I’m going to finish getting dressed and then you and I are going to take a walk. If you try to run, draw attention to yourself, or get help from other Blighters, I’ll snap your fucking neck. Do you understand?” Jacob hissed. The woman was turning a violent shade of red but she nodded weakly and Jacob dropped her to the floor. She began gasping and coughing as she tried to catch her breath, leaving Jacob to collect his hat, kukri, coat, and various other weapons before dragging her to her feet by the hair and marching her out the door with her injured arm twisted up behind her back.

 

 

The Rooks stared as Jacob threw a Blighter woman to the floor of one of their warehouses in Whitechapel. It was their most secure warehouse since it sat in the borough the Rooks had reclaimed first, and so Jacob had no qualms about dropping off the trash there.

“I want her in chains, do you hear me?” Jacob barked. Two Rooks scurried forward to comply, not wanting to get on the boss’s bad side since he was so obviously fuming.

“Hannigan, Moore, send word to all the Rooks that nobody is to approach the Blighters. Any of them. If they step foot into one of our Boroughs, I want them shot. No gang fights, no drama, just kill them. I want scouts throughout the city, bring me any news if the Blighters start repositioning themselves or acting in a suspicious manner. Duncan, go to Clara and tell her to keep the urchins off the streets until I give the all clear. If this one gets away, and I don’t care how it happens, anyone watching this warehouse is going to join _her,_ ” he glared venomously at the unfortunate messenger, “on the top of my shit list, right after Lilla _fucking_ Graves.”

The room was silent as he stormed out and zip lined up to the train tracks nearby.

 

 

 

 

“Jacob, I’m so sorry,” Evie murmured, examining the letter on her desk. Her brows were furrowed tightly, making her look every inch their father’s child, and Henry hovered nervously at her shoulder. “This never should have happened.”

“Obviously it shouldn’t have,” Jacob snapped, receiving a look from his twin before reigning himself in. “But it did so we have to fix it. They have Freddy, Evie.”

“I know, but we can’t just surrender Lambeth and a thousand pounds Jacob. It would put every other borough we reclaimed in danger of being taken over again; we need money to keep the Rooks operating, and Lambeth ensures that every borough on this side of the Thames is secure,” Evie sighed, shoving a loose strand of hair out of her face. Jacob’s jaw clenched and he punched the corner of the desk.

“They’re going to kill him!” he snarled.

“And if we do this, if we comply, it will show the Templars that they can manipulate us, and then we will lose London,” Evie replied. Jacob felt something dangerous beginning to simmer in his gut and he forced himself to take a step away from his sister. Henry licked his lips nervously, having picked up on the flush very quickly spreading across Jacob’s neck and seeping upward into his ears, and began to position himself so that he could get between the twins if need be.

“So you want me to just leave him there to die?”

“Jacob, the Brotherhood is depending on us to secure London. We can’t jeopardise that for the sake of one man.”

“If it was Henry you would do it!” Jacob screamed, jabbing his finger towards her. “If it was him you would,” he said a little more softly, hating how his voice cracked and his eyes burned with unshed tears. He was terrified, angry, and needed support that Evie wasn’t willing to give. Evie looked at Henry, face instantly aged by remorse, and then shook her head.

“No,” she murmured, “I wouldn’t, and Henry would understand why.”

Jacob stared at her, and suddenly all of the progress that they had made was shattered, up in flames, gone. Her response had the same effect as jumping into the Thames in winter would, and it was equally as icy.

“She’s right Jacob,” Henry said. Jacob let out a manic laugh that turned into a sob halfway through.

“Because she’s _always_ right Henry. You know what Evie? You’re right, you would let Henry die because you’re a coldhearted _bitch_ and he’s an Assassin who knows what is happening and why. Freddy isn’t an Assassin. We can’t ask him to die for a cause he doesn’t even know that much about!” Jacob roared as the tears he had tried so valiantly to push back rolled down his cheeks. “What about the Creed?!”

“This isn’t breaking the Creed but you complying with the Templars is!” Evie screamed back, her face going from fair to crimson in a second. Jacob stormed across the space between them and glared at her, the tips of their noses practically touching.

“Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent. If we fail to act, we might as well cut Freddy’s throat ourselves. If you want to stand idle, fine, but I’m getting him back,” Jacob said, and with that he was flying from the train and out into the cold London rain.

 

 

 

Thirty-one hours in, Jacob found the factory where Freddy was being held. It had taken some of the most brutal interrogations he had ever gotten to weed out the location, and some more manoeuvring to ensure that the Templars and the Blighters had no idea he was coming.

“-n’t coming. I don’t understand it. Our informant told us this would be the Assassin’s biggest weakness.”

“He’ll come, trust me. He’s sick in the head enough to fall into bed with a man, and a rozzer no less…he’ll come.”

“If he doesn’t, what do we do?”

“Exactly what we said we would. We kill ‘im off, send his head to Frye, and then launch an attack on the City of London.”

Jacob had to resist throwing himself into the factory mindlessly as he listened to the conversation happening in the room below. A glimpse into second sight showed two Blighters and Graves standing in an office with Freddy held up by chains between them. Freddy was barely moving, his head occasionally rolling from side to side, and he had apparently long since been able to stand on his own. Jacob could tell how badly the cuffs were biting into his wrists from holding all of Freddy’s weight, and he had no doubt that Freddy would be in recovery from this for a long while. Taking a deep breath, Jacob crept towards the door, flipping into the factory and immediately ducking behind a stack of cloth. There were twelve Blighters on this floor, seven more spread out on the floor above, and the stairs to the top floor were being guarded by two others. Once they were all taken care of, Jacob would crawl back out the window, come in through the office window, dispatch Graves and the last two Blighters, and then unchain Freddy.

The first three were easy, obviously new to guard duty and unaware of just how dangerous Jacob could be. They hadn’t even heard him before he was driving his blade through their necks, dead before their blood even hit the floor. After they were carefully shoved into a huge crate of wool and buried, Jacob pressed on. He had almost had someone get to the alarm bell on five separate occasions, and by the time he was creeping up the stairs to the second floor his chest was heaving from all of the running, hiding, and tackling he had been forced to do. Throwing knives were put to good use there, clearing the floor far more quickly than his hidden blades had, and he simply sprinted up the stairs and did a double assassination on the two bored, inattentive fools standing at the top of them. It wasn’t until he got to the window of the office that he ran into some trouble.

“-quiet in here?”

“I think so. Go check on the floor.”

“Oh fuck!”

“What?!”

“Everyone’s dead ma’am. I think Frye is here.”

With that, Graves grabbed Freddy by the hair and pressed a gun to his temple.

“Come on out you son of a bitch!” she screamed, eyes flickering all around the room. “You want dead bodies, I’ll give you a dead body!”

Jacob smashed the window and a knife was flying out of his hand before her finger could even twitch against the trigger. The gun hit the floor at the same time as its possessor, and Freddy whimpered as the dead woman landed by his feet. The two remaining Blighters screamed and tried to run as Jacob dropped down into the office, his coat billowing out around him, making him look like a deadly apparition. He caught them easily and threw them over the railing, listening to their bones snap as they hit the floor three stories below. If they didn’t die on impact, they’d die soon enough. Jacob’s thoughts immediately turned towards Freddy though, and he rushed into the office. The keys to the cuffs holding Freddy up were in Graves’ pocket, and he unlocked them quickly, catching Freddy as he nearly collapsed.

“Jacob?” Freddy rasped, and it was then that Jacob got a good look at him. Both eyes were so bruised they were swollen shut, and his nose was bent at an unusual angle. A deep cut ran down the side of his face, and his lower lip was still freshly bleeding as Jacob cradled Freddy gently.

“Yeah, I’ve got you Freddy,” Jacob murmured, horror rising as he carefully examined his partner. Freddy’s wrists were raw and bloodied from the cuffs, and a few of his fingers were broken. His clothes were damp, muddy, and tattered, and Freddy was shivering uncontrollably. “You need a hospital.”

“Knew you’d…show up,” Freddy managed to slur, and then he was losing consciousness. Jacob stood and squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of which way the nearest hospital was. If any cabbie tried to delay them, Jacob would break his arms later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Frederick opened his eyes, the room was blindingly sterile. Out in the hall he could hear a faint bustling, a cart being pushed down the hall, people sniffling, coughing, crying, but his room was blessedly devoid of such noises. Every bit of him ached and as his foggy mind tried to catch up with his body, he noticed several casts, bandages, and the twinge of stitches.

“Jacob?” he croaked, trying to sit up and giving up as pain laced through his ribs.

“Sergeant Abberline, it’s good to see you awake!” a nurse breathed. He jumped violently, tweaking every injury, and then finally saw her in the corner. “Your friend left a letter here for you, but he said that he wasn’t able to stay. I’m going to go get the doctor now.”

She pressed a sealed envelope into Freddy’s less injured hand and then hurried out of the room. He tore it open with shaking hands and squinted as he read.

_Freddy,_

_I’m so sorry that this happened to you; it’s all my fault. I should have known better than to have been so careless with you, and I put you in danger. You know so little about the life I lead, and I think that it’s better that you don’t. You were taken because Graves and others like her thought that they could weaken our hold on the city by taking you hostage. They almost succeeded. I would have done it, surrendered Lambeth and all of that money, if I hadn’t found you in time._

_I’m going on a trip Freddy. Evie, Henry, and I have all agreed that I need some time away from London, if not for my sake then for yours. You are my greatest weakness and the enemy knows that now. I killed every single one of them, the ones responsible for hurting you, but I know that won’t be enough to keep you safe if I remain in London. I can’t tell you where I’m going-I know you’d follow me because you’re a stubborn man-but I will tell you this: I love you. The time that I got to spend with you was the greatest collection of moments in my life, and I will always cherish those memories, but if I’m to keep you safe I must refrain from making any more memories with you._

_I know that this will inevitably hurt you, if the depth of the hurt I am feeling right now is any indication, and for that I am sorry. I’ve told Evie and Henry to keep an eye on you, and once things cool off I may return to London. If and when I do return, I hope that I will see you again._

_Don’t wait around for me. I’m not worth it._

_Love always,_

_Jacob_

Freddy was grateful for the morphine when it came, and took it quickly. He didn’t want to have to stare at the paper in his hands, didn’t want to watch as his tears mixed with the tear stains Jacob himself had left, and he certainly didn’t want to feel his heart collapsing in on itself.

**Author's Note:**

> If you or a loved one is struggling with homophobia, transphobia, or other LGBT+ issues, please check out http://www.itgetsbetter.org/They have excellent resources on how and where to get help, and their site can be a good place to start seeking out a larger helping community. There's also http://www.thetrevorproject.org/ , and https://community.pflag.org/ is a great starting resource for allies of the LGBT+ community.


End file.
